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PHILIP   NOLAN'S    FRIENDS 


SAWYER 

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•I  V 

1 1. 


PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS 


A   STORY  OF   THE    CHANGE   OF    WESTERN 
EMPIRE 


BY 


EDWARD    E.    HALE 

AUTHOR  OF  "  A  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY,"  "  UPS  AND  DOWNS,"  "  THE  BRICK 
MOON,"  AND  "  SYBARIS  " 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
1891 


COPYRIGHT,  1876, 
BY  SCRIBNER,   ARMSTRONG,  &  CO 


PKESSWORK  BY  BERWICK  &  SMITH,  BOSTON,  U.S.A. 


PS 


PREFACE. 


THE  silence  of  our  historians  on  the  subject  of  the  annexation 
of  Louisiana  to  the  United  States,  or  their  indifference,  is  very 
curious.  It  is  perhaps  even  necessary  to  explain  to  the  general 
reader  of  to-day,  that  the  "annexation  of  Louisiana"  was  the 
annexation  of  all  that  the  United  States  holds  west  of  the  Missis 
sippi,  excepting  the  province  of  Alaska,  and  the  regions  secured  by 
the  Mexican  war  and  consequent  negotiation  with  Mexico.  The 
standard  histories,  when  they  speak  of  the  annexation,  allude  to 
the  final  debates  in  Congress ;  and  the  history  of  the  negotiation, 
as  given  by  Marbois,  the  French  negotiator,  is  sometimes  con 
densed.  But  little  more  is  said.  Yet  it  is  the  annexation  of  Lou 
isiana  which  makes  the  United  States  of  to-day  to  be  one  of  the 
great  powers.  Without  the  immense  region  then  known  as  Louisi 
ana,  no  Pacific  coast,  no  California,  —  no  "  empire  from  ocean  to 
ocean." 

I  suppose  it  is  safe  to  say  that  the  Federalists  had  attacked 
the  purchase  so  eagerly,  that  they  were  afraid  their  attack  would 
be  remembered.  Of  the  distinguished  Western  men,  the  separate 
plans  had  been  so  diverse,  sometimes  so  treasonable,  that  their 
representatives  have  not  dwelt  much  on  the  story.  On  Mr.  Jeffer 
son's  part,  I  think  there  was  an  uneasy  feeling  that  the  credit  was 
none  of  his.  The  truth  is,  that  the  credit  —  so  far  as  there  is  any 
to  be  given  to  one  man  —  of  this  great  transaction,  which  makes  the 
United  States  what  it  is,  is  to  be  given  to  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  1 
mean  that  he  originated  the  plan  which  was  carried  out,  which  no 
one  else  had  proposed ;  and  he  is  the  only  public  character  who 
had  to  do  with  it,  who  seems  to  have  had,  at  the  time,  any  cleat 
sense  of  its  importance,  or  of  the  results  which  would  follow. 

The  belligerent  operations  of  John  Adams's  administration  are 


9172: 


4  PREFACE. 

always  spoken  of  by  the  historians  as  aimed  at  France.  They 
were  so  spoken  of  at  the  time,  in  print.  Twelve  regiments  of 
infantry  and  one  of  cavalry  were  authorized  to  serve  "  during  the 
continuance  of  the  existing  differences  with  the  French  republic." 
A  considerable  part  of  these  regiments  was  raised.  The  recruits 
—  to  fight  against  France  —  were  assembled  at  our  ports  on  the 
Ohio  and  Mississippi ;  that  is,  they  were  removed  so  far  from 
any  points  where  they  could  be  used  against  France.  The  boats 
which  were  to  take  them  down  the  river,  to  take  Orleans,  a  Span 
ish  post,  were  built  and  were  in  readiness.  I  have  read  the  manu 
script  correspondence  between  Hamilton,  the  acting  commander  of 
the  new  army,  and  Wilkinson,  the  commander  on  the  Ohio,  with 
reference  to  this  proposed  attack  on  Orleans.  Wilkinson  himself 
made  a  visit  to  Hamilton,  to  adjust  the  details  of  the  campaign. 
This  mine  was  ready  to  be  sprung  upon  poor  Spain,  when  the 
republic  of  the  United  States  should  make  war  with  "  the  French 
republic." 

Two  fortunate  or  unfortunate  events,  in  which  the  War  Office 
has  been  destroyed  by  fire,  have  put  an  end  to  many  of  the  docu 
ments  which  once  described  the  details  of  these  preparations.  In 
those  days  governments  did  not  discount  their  victories,  nor  state 
their  plans  in  advance  in  the  journals.  And  so  John  Adams's  ex 
pedition  against  the  Spanish  town  of  Orleans  goes  into  history  as 
a  part  of  the  "  French  War." 

I  felt  that  I  owed  something  to  the  memory  of  Philip  Nolan, 
whose  name  I  once  took  unguardedly  for  the  name  of  a  hero  of 
my  own  creation,  who  was  supposed  to  live  at  another  time.  The 
part  which  the  real  Philip  Nolan  played  in  our  history  is  far  more 
important  than  that  of  many  a  man  who  has  statues  raised  in  his 
honor.  So  far  as  careful  work  among  the  memorials  of  his  life 
would  serve,  I  have  tried  to  rescue  him  from  the  complete  oblivion 
which  hangs  over  him.  He  was  murdered  by  the  Spanish  Govern 
ment,  who  dishonored  their  own  passport  for  his  murder.  Were 
such  an  event  possible  now,  war  within  an  hour  would  be  the  con 
sequence.  In  the  recent  case  of  the  "  Virginius,"  the  most  angry 
of  Cuban  sympathizers  did  not  pretend  that  there  had  been  any 
such  violation  of  the  right  of  nations.  But  Spain  was  strong 
then,  and  America  was  weak,  and  Mr.  Jefferson  was  "  pacific." 

America  is  now  strong,  and  Spain  is  weak,  —  how  strong,  and 
how  weak,  the  story  of  the  "  Virginius  "  showed  If  we  trace 


PREFACE.  5 

events  to  their  unconscious  causes,  we  may  say  that  no  single  day 
has  done  so  much  to  make  America  strong,  and  to  make  Spain 
weak,  as  that  day  in  1801,  when  a  Spanish  officer,  under  his  king's 
commission,  murdered  Philip  Nolan,  bearing  the  same  king's  pass 
port  for  his  lawful  adventure. 

The  documents  which  illustrate  this  history,  in  the  archives  of 
San  Antonio  and  of  Austin,  are  very  numerous.  To  the  cordial 
assistance  of  the  officers  of  every  name,  who  have  helped  me  to  find 
and  use  them,  I  am  greatly  indebted.  To  Mr.  Quintero,  who  gave 
me  the  full  use  of  his  rich  collections  in  the  archives  of  Monterey, 
which  I  have  not  visited,  I  have  tried  to  express  my  obligations. 
But,  indeed,  I  have  received  so  much  kind  help  in  the  preparation 
of  this  little  book,  from  a  thousand  friends  in  the  South  and  West, 
that  I  cannot  thank  them  all  by  name.  My  readers  owe  it  to 
them,  if  they  gain  any  new  light  on  our  history,  as  they  follow  the 
adventures  of  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS. 

EDWARD  E.  HALE. 

ROXBUKY,  MASS.,  Nov.  6,  1876. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAFTBJt. 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 


fAGE. 

A  PARTING n 

A  MEETING ,        ,         22 

PHILIP  NOLAN 32 

"Snow  YOUR  PASSPORTS!"     ...  .42 

SAVE   ME   FROM   MY   FRIENDS 53 


GOOD-RY 

THE  SAN  ANTONIO  ROAD 

THE  DRESSED  DAY 

TALKING  AND  WALKING 

LIFE  ON  THE  PRASSOS 

RUMORS  OF  WARS 

"  LOVE  WAITS  AND  WEEPS  "     . 

NIGHT  AND  DAY 151 

A  PACKET  OF  LETTERS 159 

COURTS  AND  CAMPS 167 

NEWS?   WHAT  NEWS? 173 

MINES  AND  COUNTER-MINES 189 

WILL  HARROD'S  FORTUNES 195 

THE  WARNING 203 


63 

74 

90 

104 

119 

129 

136 


A  TERTULIA 


213 


"THE  MAN  I  HATE" 223 

BATTLE 234 

AT  SAN  ANTONIO 241 

"I  MUST  GO  HOME" 248 

COUNTERMARCH    ........  256 

HOMEWARD  BOUND 267 

HOME  AS  FOUND 277 

7 


8 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  FAG*. 

XXVIII.  GENERAL  BOWLES .284 

XXIX.  "  WHERE  SHALL  SHE  GO  ? "         .       .       .       .       .  290 

XXX.  MOTHER  AND  CHILD         ....               .  298 

XXXI.  ON  THE  PLANTATION 303 

XXXII.  THE  DESOLATE  HOME 310 

XXXIII.  ALONE 319 

XXXIV.  ALL  WILL  BE  WELL 329 

XXXV.  SAVAGE  LIKE 337 

XXXVI.  IN  PRISON,  AND  YE  VISITED  ME     ...  347 

XXXVII.  FACE  TO  FACE 356 

XXXVIII.  WHAT  NEXT? 367 

XXXIX.  A  FAMILY  DINNM 386 


PHILIP    NOLAN'S    FRIENDS; 


OR,   SHOW  YOUR   PASSPORTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A   PARTING. 

"  Oh !  saw  ye  not  fair  Inez  ? 

She  has  gone  into  the  West, 

To  dazzle  when  the  sun  is  down, 

And  rob  the  world  of  rest." 

THOMAS  HOOD. 

"GOOD-BY!" 

"  Good-by,  papa  ; "  and  the  poor  girl  waved  her  handker 
chief,  and  broke  into  tears,  though  she  had  held  up  perfectly 
till  now. 

"  Tirez !  "  cried  Sancho,  the  blackest  of  all  possible  black 
men ;  and  he  shook  his  fist  at  his  crew  of  twenty  willing 
rowers,  almost  as  black  as  he.  The  men  gave  way  heartily, 
and  in  good  time ;  the  boat  shot  out  from  the  levee,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  Inez  could  no  longer  see  her  father's  handker 
chief,  nor  he  hers.  Still  he  stood  watching  the  receding  boat, 
till  it  was  quite  lost  among  the  crowd  of  flat-boats  and  other 
vessels  in  the  river. 

The  parting,  indeed,  between  father  and  daughter  was  such 
as  did  not  often  take  place,  even  in  those  regions,  in  those 
times.  Silas  Perry,  the  father  of  this  young  girl,  was  a  sue- 


12  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

cessful  merchant,  who  had  been  established  near  forty  years 
in  the  French  and  Spanish  colony  of  Orleans,  then  a  small 
colonial  trading-post,  which  gave  little  pledge  of  the  great 
city  of  New  Orleans  of  to-day.  He  had  gone  there  —  a 
young  New  Englander,  who  had  his  fortunes  to  make  —  in 
the  year  1763,  when  the  King  of  France  first  gave  Louisiana 
to  his  well-beloved  cousin,  King  of  Spain.  Silas  Perry  had 
his  fortunes  to  make — and  he  made  them.  He  had  been 
loyal  to  the  cause  of  his  own  country,  so  soon  as  he  heard  of 
tea  thrown  over,  of  stamps  burned  in  King  Street,  and  of 
effigies  hanging  on  Liberty  Tree.  He  had  wrought  gallantly 
with  his  friend  and  fellow-countryman,  Oliver  Pollock,  in  for 
warding  Spanish  gunpowder  from  the  king's  stores,  to  Wash 
ington's  army,  by  the  unsuspected  route  of  the  Mississippi 
and  Ohio.  He  had  wrought  his  way  into  the  regards  of  suc 
cessive  Spanish  governors,  and  had  earned  the  respect  of  the 
more  important  of  the  French  planters. 

At  this  time  the  greater  part  of  the  handful  of  white  peo 
ple  who  made  the  ruling  class  in  Orleans  were  French ;  and 
a  brilliant  "  society  "  did  the  little  colony  maintain.  But  it 
had  happened  to  Silas  Perry,  whose  business  had  often  called 
him  to  the  Havana,  that  he  had  there  wooed,  won,  and  married 
a  Spanish  lady ;  and  about  the  times  of  tea-parties,  stamp- 
acts,  English  troops  recalled  from  the  Mississippi,  and  other 
such  matters,  Silas  Perry  had  busied  himself  largely  in  estab 
lishing  his  new  home  in  Orleans,  and  in  bringing  his  bride 
there.  Here  the  Spanish  lady  was  cordially  made  welcome 
by  the  ladies  of  the  little  court,  in  which  governor  and  com 
mandant  and  the  rest  were  of  Spanish  appointment,  though 
their  subjects  were  of  French  blood.  Here  she  lived  quietly; 
and  here,  after  ten  years,  she  died,  leaving  to  her  husband 
but  two  children.  One  of  them  had  been  sent  to  Paris  foi 
his  education,  nine  years  before  the  time  when  the  reader 
sees  his  sister.  For  it  is  his  sister,  who  was  an  infant  when 
her  mother  died,  whom  we  now  see,  sixteen  years  after,  wav-" 
ing  her  handkerchief  to  her  father  as  the  barge  recedes  from 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  13 

the  levee.  Other  children  had  died  in  infancy.  This  little 
Inez  herself  was  but  six  months  old  when  her  mother  died ; 
and  she  had  passed  through  infancy  and  girlhood  without  a 
mother's  care. 

But  her  father  had  risen  to  the  emergency  in  a  New  Eng- 
lander's  fashion.  Not  that  he  looked  round  to  find  a  French 
lady  to  take  the  place  of  the  Spanish  donna.  Not  he.  He 
did  write  home  to  Squam  Bay,  and  stated  to  his  sister  Eunice 
the  needs  of  the  little  child.  He  did  not  tell  Eunice  that  if 
she  came  to  be  the  child's  second  mother  she  would  exchange 
calls  with  marchionesses,  would  dress  in  silks,  and  ride  in 
carriages.  He  knew  very  well  that  none  of  these  things 
would  move  her.  He  did  tell  her,  that,  if  she  did  not  watch 
over  the  little  thing  in  her  growth,  nobody  else  would  but 
himself.  He  knew  what  he  relied  upon  in  saying  this  ;  and, 
on  the  return  of  Captain  Tucker  in  the  schooner  "  Dolores," 
sure  enough,  the  aunt  of  the  little  orphaned  baby  had 
appeared,  with  a  very  droll  assortment  of  trunks  and  other 
baggage,  in  the  most  approved  style  of  Squam  Bay.  She 
was  herself  scarcely  seventeen  years  old  when  she  thus 
changed  her  home ;  but  she  had  the  conscientious  decision 
to  which  years  of  struggle  had  trained  her  before  her  time. 
She  loved  her  brother,  and  she  was  determined  to  do  her 
duty  by  his  child.  To  that  child  she  had  ever  since  been 
faithful,  with  all  a  mother's  care. 

And  so  Miss  Inez  had  grown  up  in  a  French  town,  under 
Spanish  government,  but  with  her  every-day  life  directed 
under  the  simplest  traditions  of  New  England.  With  her 
little  friends,  and  on  any  visit,  she  saw  from  day  to  day  the 
habits,  so  utterly  different  from  those  of  home,  of  a  French 
colony  not  indisposed  to  exaggerate  the  customs  of  France. 
For  language,  she  spoke  English  at  home,  after  the  fashion 
of  the  New  Englanders  ;  but  in  the  society  of  her  playmates 
and  friends  she  spoke  French,  after  the  not  debased  fashion 
of  the  Creole  French  of  Louisiana.  Through  all  her  life, 
however,  Louisiana  had  been  under  the  Spanish  rule.  Silas 


14  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Perry  himself  spoke  and  read  Spanish  perfectly  well,  and  he 
had  taught  Inez  to  use  it  with  ease.  The  girl  had,  indeed, 
read  no  little  of  the  masterpieces  of  Spanish  literature,  so 
far  as,  in  a  We  not  very  often  thwarted  at  home,  she  had 
found  what  pleased  her  among  her  father's  books. 

She  was  now  parted  from  him  for  the  first  time,  if  we  except 
short  visits  on  one  plantation  or  another  on  the  coast.  The 
occasion  of  the  parting  was  an  unrelenting  storm  of  letters 
and  messages  from  her  mother's  only  sister,  Donna  Maria 
Dolores,  the  wife  of  a  Spanish  officer  of  high  rank,  named 
Barelo.  For  some  years  now  this  husband  had  been  stationed 
at  the  frontier  part  of  San  Antonio,  in  the  province  which 
was  beginning  to  take  the  name  of  Texas  ;  and  in  this  little 
settlement  Donna  Maria,  lonely  enough  herself,  was  making 
such  sunshine  as  she  could  for  those  around  her.  Forlorn  as 
such  a  position  seems,  perhaps,  to  people  with  fixed  homes, 
it  was  any  thing  but  forlorn  to  Donna  Maria.  She  had  lived, 
she  said,  "  the  life  of  an  Arab  "  till  now ;  and  now  to  know 
that  her  husband  was  really  stationed  here,  though  the  station 
were  a  frontier  garrison,  was  to  know  that  for  the  first  time 
since  her  girlhood  she  was  to  have  the  luxury  of  a  home. 

No  sooner  were  her  household  gods  established,  than  she 
began,  by  the  very  infrequent  "  opportunities  "  for  writing 
which  the  frontier  permitted,  to  hurl  the  storm  of  letters  on 
Silas  Perry's  defenceless  head.  Fortunately  for  him,  indeed, 
"  opportunities  "  were  few.  This  word,  in  the  use  we  now 
make  of  it,  is  taken  from  the  older  vocabulary  of  New  Eng 
land,  in  whose  language  it  implied  a  method  of  sending  a 
letter  outside  of  any  mail.  Just  as  in  English  novels  you 
find  people  speaking  of  "  franks "  for  letters,  these  older 
New  Englanders  spoke  of  "opportunities."  Mail  between 
Texas  and  Orleans  there  was  not,  never  had  been,  and,  with 
the  blessing  of  God,  never  would  be.  "  Had  I  the  power," 
said  the  Gov.  Salcedo,  "  I  would  not  let  a  bird  cross  from 
Louisiana  to  Texas."  But  sometimes  a  stray  priest  going  to 
confer  with  the  bishop  of  Orleans,  sometimes  a  government 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  15 

messenger  from  Mexico,  sometimes  a  concealed  horse-trader 
and  always  camps  of  Indians,  passed  the  frontier  eastward, 
on  one  pretext  or  another ;  and,  with  proper  license  given, 
there  was  no  reason  left  why  they  should  not,  after  Louisiana 
became  in  name  a  Spanish  province.  No  such  stray  traveller 
came  to  the  city  without  finding  Silas  Perry ;  and  inevitably 
he  brought  a  double  letter,  —  an  affectionate  note  to  Inez, 
begging  her  to  write  to  her  mother's  sister,  and  an  urgent  and 
persuasive  one  to  her  father,  begging  him,  by  all  that  was 
sacred,  not  to  let  the  child  grow  up  without  knowing  her 
mother's  only  relations. 

Silas  Perry's  heart  was  still  tender.  If  he  had  lived  to  be 
a  thousand,  he  would  never  have  forgotten  the  happy  days  in 
the  Havana,  when  he  wooed  and  won  his  Spanish  bride,  nor 
the  loyal  help  that  her  sister  Dolores  gave  to  the  wooing  and 
to  the  winning.  But  till  now  he  had  the  advantage  of  posses 
sion  ;  and  the  priests  and  soldiers  and  traders  always  carried 
back  affectionate  letters,  explaining  how  much  Inez  loved  her 
aunt,  but  how  impossible  it  was  for  her  to  come.  The  con 
cocting  of  these  letters  had  become  almost  a  family  joke  at 
home. 

It  may  help  the  reader's  chronology  if  we  say  that  our  story 
begins  in  the  first  year  which  bore  the  number  of  "  eighteen 
hundred ;  "  he  may  call  it  the  last  year  of  the  eighteenth  cen 
tury,  or  the  first  of  the  nineteenth,  as  he  likes  to  be  accurate 
or  inaccurate.  At  this  time  business  required  that  Silas 
Perry  should  go  to  Paris,  and  leave  his  home  for  many  months, 
perhaps  for  a  year.  Silas  would  gladly  have  taken  his  sister 
Eunice  and  his  daughter  with  him  ;  but  travel  was  not  what 
it  is  now,  nor  was  Paris  what  it  is  now.  And  although  he 
did  not  think  his  daughter's  head  would  be  cut  off,  still  he 
doubted  so  far  what  he  might  find  in  Paris,  that  he  shrank 
from  taking  her  thither.  As  it  happened,  at  this  moment 
there  came  a  particularly  well-aimed  shaft  from  Aunt  Dolores's 
armory ;  and  fortune  added  an  "  opportunity,"  not  only  for 
reply,  but  for  permitting  Inez  and  her  aunt  to  make  the  jour- 


16  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

ney  into  Texas  under  competent  escort,  if  they  chose  to  sub 
mit  themselves  to  all  the  hardships  of  travel  across  prairies 
and  through  a  wilderness.  True,  the  enterprise  was  utterly 
unheard  of :  this  did  not  make  it  less  agreeable  in  Silas  Perry's 
eyes.  It  was  not  such  an  enterprise  as  Donna  Maria  Dolores 
had  proposed.  She  had  arranged  that  the  girl  should  be 
sent  with  proper  companionship,  on  one  of  Silas's  vessels,  to 
Corpus  Christi  on  the  Gulf.  She  had  promised  to  go  down 
herself  to  meet  her,  with  an  escort  of  lancers  whom  their 
friend  Gov.  Herrera  had  promised  her.  But  Silas  Perry  had 
not  liked  this  plan.  He  said  boldly,  that,  if  the  girl  were  to 
ride  a  hundred  miles,  she  might  ride  three  hundred.  Mr. 
Nolan  would  take  better  care  of  her  than  any  Gov.  Herrera 
of  them  all.  "Women  always  supposed  you  were  sending 
schooners  into  mud-holes,  where  there  was  nothing  to  buy, 
and  nothing  to  sell."  And  so  the  most  improbable  of  all 
possible  events  took  place.  By  way  of  preparation  for  going 
to  Paris,  Silas  Perry  sent  his  precious  daughter,  and  his  sister 
only  less  precious,  on  a  long  land-journey  of  adventure,  to 
make  a  visit  as  long,  at  least,  as  his  own  was.  It  need  not 
be  said,  if  the  reader  apprehends  what  manner  of  man  he 
was,  that  he  had  provided  for  her  comfort,  so  far  as  fore 
thought,  lavish  expenditure,  and  a  wide  acquaintance  with  the 
country,  could  provide  for  it.  If  he  had  not  come  to  this 
sudden  and  improbable  determination,  this  story  would  not 
have  been  written. 

Inez,  as  has  been  said,  fairly  broke  down  as  the  rowers  gave 
way.  Her  Aunt  Eunice  kept  up  the  pretence  of  flying  her 
handkerchief  till  they  had  wholly  lost  sight  of  the  point  of 
their  embarkation.  And  then  the  first  words  of  comfort  which 
came  to  the  sobbing  girl  were  not  from  her  aunt. 

"  Take  one  o'  them  Boston  crackers ;  they  say  they's  dread 
ful  good  when  you  go  on  the  water.  Can't  git  none  all  along 
the  coast ;  they  don't  know  how  to  keep  'em.  So  soon  as  ye 
father  said  you  was  to  go,  I  told  old  Tucker  to  bring  me  some 
from  home ;  told  him  where  to  git  'em.  Got  'em  at  Richard- 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  ij 

eon's  in  School  Street.  Don't  have  'em  good  nowhere 
else." 

Inez,  poor  child,  could  as  easily  have  eaten  a  horseshoe  as 
the  biscuit  which  was  thus  tendered  her.  But  she  took  it 
with  a  pleasant  smile ;  and  the  words  answered  a  better  pur 
pose  than  Dr.  FlaveFs  homilies  on  contentment  could  have 
served. 

The  speaker  was  a  short-set,  rugged  New  Englander,  of 
about  sixty  years  of  age,  whose  dress  and  appointments  were 
in  every  respect  curiously,  not  to  say  sedulously,  different 
from  those  of  the  Creole  French,  or  the  Spanish  seamen,  or 
the  Western  flat-boatmen,  all  around  him.  Regardless  of 
treaties,  of  nationalities,  or  of  birthright  privileges,  Seth 
Ransom  regarded  all  these  people  as  "furriners,"  and  so 
designated  them,  even  in  the  animated  and  indignant  conver 
sations  which  he  held  with  them.  He  was  himself  a  Yankee 
of  the  purest  blood,  who  had,  however,  no  one  of  the  restless 
or  adventurous  traits  attributed  to  the  Yankee  of  fiction  or 
of  the  stage.  He  had,  it  is  true,  followed  the  sea  in  early 
life.  But,  having  fallen  in  with  Silas  Perry  in  Havana,  he 
had  attached  himself  to  his  service  with  a  certain  feudal 
loyalty.  The  institution  of  feudalism,  as  the  philosophical 
student  has  observed,  made  the  vassal  quite  as  much  the. 
master  of  his  lord  as  the  master  was  of  his  vassal,  if  not 
more.  That  this  was  the  reason  why  Seth  Ransom  served 
Silas  Perry,  it  would  be  wrong  to  say.  But  it  is  true  that  he 
served  him  in  a  masterful  way,  as  a  master  serves.  It  is  also 
true  that  he  idolized  Inez,  as  he  had  idolized  her  mother 
before  her.  Of  each,  he  was  the  most  faithful  henchman 
and  the  most  loyal  admirer.  Yet  he  would  address  Inez 
personally  with  the  intimate  terms  in  which  he  spoke  to  her 
when  she  was  a  baby  in  his  arms,  —  when  perhaps  she  had 
been  left  for  an  hour  in  his  happy  and  perfect  charge.  If  no 
one  else  were  present,  he  would  call  her  "  Een,"  or  "  Inez," 
as  if  she  had  been  his  own  granddaughter.  In  the  presence 
of  others,  on  the  other  hand,  no  don  of  the  Governor's  staff 
could  have  found  fault  with  the  precision  of  his  etiquette. 


ig  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

The  necessities  of  Mr.  Perry's  business  often  sent  Seth 
Ransom  back  to  New  England,  so  that  he  could  drink  again 
from  the  waters  of  the  pump  in  King  Street,  as  he  still  called 
the  State  Street  of  to-day.  It  was  as  Hercules  sometimes  let 
Antaeus  put  his  foot  to  the  ground.  Ransom  returned  from 
each  such  visit  with  new  contempt  for  every  thing  which  he 
found  upon  other  shores,  excepting  for  the  household  of  Silas 
Perry,  and  perhaps  a  modified  toleration  for  that  of  Oliver 
Pollock.  For  Silas  Perry  himself,  for  Miss  Eunice,  and  Miss 
Inez,  his  chivalrous  devotion  blazed  out  afresh  on  each 
return. 

He  was  athletic,  strong,  and  practical.  Nobody  had  ever 
found  any  thing  he  could  not  do,  excepting  that  he  read  and 
wrote  with  such  difficulty,  that  in  practice  he  never  descended 
to  these  arts  except  in  the  most  trying  emergency.  When, 
therefore,  Silas  Perry  determined  on  his  rash  project  of  send 
ing  his  daughter  and  sister  under  Mr.  Nolan's  escort  to  San 
Antonio,  he  determined,  of  course,  to  send  Seth  Ransom 
with  them  as  their  body-guard.  The  fact  that  he  sent  him, 
in  truth,  really  relieved  the  enterprise  from  its  rashness; 
for,  though  Seth  Ransom  had  never  crossed  the  prairies, 
any  one  who  knew  him,  and  the  relation  in  which  he  stood 
to  Miss  Inez,  knew  that,  if  it  were  necessary,  he  would  carry 
her  from  Natchez  to  the  Alamo  in  his  arms. 

The  boat  was  soon  free  from  the  little  flotilla  which  then 
made  all  the  commerce  of  the  little  port;  and  the  steady 
stroke  of  the  well-trained  crew  hurried  her  up  stream  with  a 
speed  that  exacted  the  admiration  of  the  lazy  lookers-on  of 
whatever  nation. 

Inez  thanked  her  old  cavalier  for  his  attention,  made  him 
happy  by  asking  him  to  find  something  for  her  in  a  bag 
which  he  had  stowed  away,  and  then  kept  him  by  her  side. 

"  Do  they  row  as  well  as  this  in  Boston  Harbor,  Ransom  ? " 
she  said.  For  some  reason  unknown,  Ransom  was  never 
addressed  by  his  baptismal  name. 

"  Don't  have  to.    Ain't  many  niggers  there,  no  way.    Wha; 


OA\  "snow  YOUR  PASSPORTS:''  19 

they  is  lives  on  Nigger  Hill ;  that's  all  on  one  side.  Yes ; 
some  niggers  goes  to  sea,  but  them's  all  cooks.  Don't  have 
to  row  much  there.  Have  sailboats ;  don't  have  no  rivers." 

The  girl  loved  to  hear  his  dialect,  and  was  not  averse  to 
sti :  up  his  resentment  against  all  men  who  had  not  been  born 
under  her  father's  roof,  and  all  nations  but  those  which  ate 
codfish  salted  on  Saturday. 

"  I  don't  see  where  they  get  their  ducks,  if  they  have  no 
rivers,"  she  said  artfully,  as  if  she  were  thinking  aloud. 

"  Ducks !  thousands  on  'em.  Big  ducks  too ;  not  little 
critters  like  these.  Go  into  Faneuil  Hall  Market  any  day, 
and  have  more  ducks  than  you  can  ask  for.  Ducks  is 
nothin'."  And  a  grim  smile  stole  over  his  face,  as  if  he 
were  pleased  that  Inez  had  selected  ducks  as  the  precise 
point  on  which  her  comparison  should  be  made. 

"Well,  surely,  Ransom,  they  have  no  sugar-cane,"  said 
she ;  and,  by  her  eye,  he  saw  that  she  was  watching  Sancho, 
the  boatswain  as  he  might  be  called,  who,  as  he  nodded  to 
his  men,  solaced  himself  by  chewing  and  sucking  at  a  bit  of 
fresh  cane  from  a  little  heap  at  his  side. 

"  Sugar-cane  !  Guess  not.  Don't  want  'em.  Won't  touch 
'em.  Oceans  of  white  sugar,  all  done  up  in  sugar-loaves, 
jest  when  they  want  it.  Them  as  makes  sugar  makes  it  in 
the  woods,  makes  it  out  of  trees ;  don't  have  to  have  them 
dirty  niggers  make  it.  Oceans  of  sugar-loaves  all  the  time !  " 
/nd  again  that  severe  smile  stole  over  his  face,  and  he 
^oked  up  into  the  sky,  almost  as  if  he  saw  celestial  beings 
carrying  purple-papered  sugar-loaves  to  Boston,  and  as  if  — 
next  to  ducks  —  the  supply  of  sugar  to  that  town  was  its 
marked  characteristic. 

Eunice  Perry  was  glad  to  follow  the  lead  which  Ransom 
had  given,  sagaciously  or  unconsciously.  Any  thing  was 
better  for  the  voyage  than  a  homesick  brooding  on  what  they 
had  left  behind. 

"  We  must  not  make  Inez  discontented  with  Orleans  and 
f.he  coast,  Ransom.  Poor  child  !  she  has  nothing  but  roses 


20  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

and  orange-blossoms,  figs  and  bananas  ;  we  must  not  tell  her 
too  much  about  russet  apples,  or  she  will  be  discontented." 

"  I  do  like  russet  apples,  aunty  darling,  quite  as  well  as  I 
like  figs ;  but  I  shall  not  be  discontented  while  I  have  you 
on  one  side  of  me,  and  Ransom  on  the  other,  and  dear  old 
Sancho  beating  time  in  front."  This,  with  a  proud  expres 
sion,  as  if  she  knew  they  were  trying  to  lead  her  out  from 
herself,  and  that  she  did  not  need  to  be  cosseted.  Old  San 
cho  caught  the  glance,  and  started  his  rowers  to  new  energy. 
To  maintain  a  crack  crew  of  oarsmen  was  one  of  the  boasts 
of  the  "  coast  "  at  that  time  ;  and,  although  Silas  Perry  was 
in  no  sort  a  large  planter,  yet  he  maintained  the  communica 
tion  between  his  plantation  above  the  city,  and  his  home  in 
the  city,  —  which,  for  himself,  he  preferred  at  any  season  to 
any  place  of  refuge,  —  by  a  crew  as  stalwart  and  as  well 
trained  as  any  planter  of  them  all. 

The  boat  on  which  the  two  ladies  and  their  companion.1 
•'Vere  embarked  was  not  the  elegant  barge  in  which  they 
usually  made  the  little  voyage  from  the  plantation  to  their 
•city  home.  It  was  a  more  business-like  craft  which  Silas 
Perry  had  provided  to  carry  his  daughter  as  far  as  Natchi- 
toches  on  the  Red  River,  where  she  and  her  companions  were 
to  join  the  land  expedition  of  Philip  Nolan  and  his  friends. 
The  after-part  of  the  boat  was  protected  from  sun  or  rain 
by  an  awning  or  light  roof,  generally  made  of  sails,  or  some 
times  of  skins,  but,  in  Inez's  boat,  of  light  woodwork ;  it 
had  among  the  habitants  the  name  of  tendeld.  Under  the 
tendelet  a  little  deck,  with  the  privileges  of  all  quarter-decks, 
belonged  to  the  master  of  the  boat  and  his  company.  Here 
he  ate  his  meals  by  day ;  here,  if  he  slept  on  board,  he 
rpread  his  mattress  at  night.  It  was  high  enough  to  give  a 
good  view  of  the  river  and  the  low  shores,  of  any  approach 
ing  boat,  or  any  other  object  of  interest  in  the  somewhat 
limited  catalogue  of  river  experiences.  In  the  preparations 
for  the  voyage  of  the  ladies,  curtains  had  been  arranged, 
which  would  screen  them  from  either  side,  from  the  sun,  from 
wind,  or  even  from  a  shower. 


OK,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  21 

A  long  tarpauling,  called  the  pielat,  was  stretched  over  the 
whole  length  of  the  boat,  to  protect  the  stores,  the  trunks, 
and  other  cargo,  from  the  weather.  The  rowers  sat  at  th^ 
sides,  old  Sancho  watching  them  from  the  rear ;  while  a  man 
in  the  bow,  called  the  bosnian*  who  generally  wielded  a  sort 
of  a  boat-hook,  watched  the  course,  and  fended  off  any  float 
ing  log,  or  watched  for  snag  or  sawyer. 

The  voyage  this  afternoon  was  not  long.  It  was,  as  Inez 
said,  only  a  "  taste-piece."  Eunice  said  it  was  as  the  cara 
vans  at  the  East  go  a  mile  out  of  town  on  the  first  night,  so 
that  they  may  the  more  easily  send  back  for  any  thing  that  is 
forgotten. 

"  All  nonsense  ! "  said  Ransom.  "  I  told  ye  father  might 
as  well  start  afore  sunrise,  and  be  at  the  Cross  to-night: 
would  not  hear  a  word  on  it,  and  so  lost  all  day." 

In  truth,  Inez  was  to  spend  her  last  night  at  the  planta 
tion,  which  had  been  her  favorite  summer  home  for  years,  to 
bid  farewell  to  the  servants  there,  and  to  gather  up  such  of 
her  special  possessions  as  could  be  carried  on  the  pack- 
horses,  on  this  pilgrimage  to  her  Spanish  aunt.  Her  father 
would  gladly  have  come  with  her,  but  for  the  possibility  that 
his  ship  might  sail  for  Bordeaux  early  the  next  morning. 

l  Was  this  word  once  "boatswain,"  perhaps? 


82  PHILIP  NOLAN'S 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  MEETING. 
"Pleased  with  a  rattle,  tickled  with  a  straw." — ALEXANDER  POPE. 

BEFORE  sunrise  the  next  morning  the  final  embarkation 
v/as  to  take  place.  The  whole  house  was  in  an  uproar.  The 
steady  determination  of  old  Chloe,  chief  of  the  kitchen,  that 
Miss  Inez  should  eat  the  very  best  breakfast  she  ever  saw, 
before  she  went  off  "to  the  wild  Indians,"  dominated  the 
whole  establishment.  In  this  determination  Chloe  was 
steadily  upheld  by  Ransom,  who  knew,  by  many  conflicts 
from  which  he  had  retreated  worsted,  that  it  was  idle  to  try 
to  dictate  to  her,  while  at  the  same  time  he  had  views  as 
decided  as  ever  on  the  inferiority  of  French  cookery  to  that 
of  New  England.  The  preparation  of  this  master  break 
fast  had  called  upon  Chloe  and  her  allies  long  before  light. 
Caesar  and  his  allies,  also  preparing  for  a  voyage  which 
would  take  them  from  home  for  many  days,  were  as  early 
and  as  noisy.  The  only  wonder,  indeed,  was  that  the  girl, 
who  was  the  centre  of  the  idolatry  of  them  all,  or  her  aunt, 
who  was  hardly  less  a  favorite,  could  either  of  them  sleep  a 
wink,  in  the  neighborhood  of  such  clamors,  after  midnight 
passed.  When  they  did  meet  at  breakfast,  they  found  the 
table  lighted  with  bougies,  and  preparations  for  such  a  repast 
as  if  the  governor  and  his  staff,  the  commandant  with  his, 
ind  half  the  merchants  of  Orleans,  had  been  invited.  Be- 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  23 

sides  Francois  and  Laurent,  who  were  in  regular  attendance 
on  the  table,  Ransom  was  hovering  round,  somewhat  as  a 
chief  butler  might  have  done  in  another  form  of  luxurious 
civilization. 

"  Eat  a  bit  of  breast,  Miss  Inez ;  and  here's  the  second 
j'int;  try  that.  Don't  know  nothin',  —  niggers,  —  but  I  see 
to  this  myself.  Miss  Eunice,  them  eggs  is  fresh :  took  'em 
myself  from  four  different  nests.  Niggers  don't  know  nothin' 
about  eggs.  Made  a  fire  in  the  barn  chamber,  and  biled  'em 
right  myself,  jest  as  your  father  likes  'em,  Miss  Inez.  Them 
others  is  as  hard  as  rocks." 

Inez  was  in  the  frolic  of  a  new  expedition  now ;  and  the 
traces  of  parting,  if  indeed  they  existed,  could  not  be  dis 
cerned.  She  balanced  Ransom's  attentions  against  the  equal 
attention  of  the  two  boys,  pretended  to  eat  from  more  dishes 
and  to  drink  from  more  cups  than  would  have  served  Cleo 
patra  for  a  month,  amused  herself  in  urging  Aunt  Eunice  to 
do  the  same,  and  pretended  to  wrap  in  napkins,  for  the 
"  smoking  halt,"  the  viands  upon  which  her  aunt  would  not 
try  experiments.  The  meal,  on  the  whole,  was  not  unsatis 
factory  to  Aunt  Chloe's  pride,  to  Ransom's  prevision,  or  to 
the  public  opinion  of  the  household.  All  who  were  left 
behind  were,  in  private,  unanimous  on  one  point,  —  namely, 
that  Miss  Eunice  and  Miss  Inez  were  both  to  be  roasted 
alive  within  a  week  by  the  Caddo  Indians ;  to  be  torn  limb 
from  limb,  and  eaten,  even  as  they  were  now  eating  the  spring 
chickens  before  them.  But  as  this  view  was  somewhat  dis 
couraging,  and  as  Aunt  Chloe,  after  having  once  solemnly 
impressed  it  upon  Eunice,  had  been  told  by  Silas  Perry  that 
she  should  be  locked  up  for  a  day  in  the  lock-house  if  she 
ever  said  another  such  word  to  anybody,  it  was  less  publicly 
expressed  in  the  farewells  of  the  morning,  though  not  held 
any  the  less  implicitly. 

In  truth,  the  bougies  were  a  wholly  unnecessary  elegance 
or  precaution ;  for  the  noisy  party  did  not,  in  fact,  get  under 
way  till  the  sun  had  well  risen,  and  every  sign  of  early 


24  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

exhalation  had  passed  from  the  river.  Such  had  been  Mr. 
Perry's  private  orders  to  his  sister;  and,  although  the  gen 
eral  custom  of  a  start  at  sunrise  was  too  well  fixed  to  be 
broken  in  upon  in  form,  Eunice  and  Ransom  had  no  lack  of 
methods  of  delaying  the  final  embarkation,  even  at  the  risk 
of  a  little  longer  pull  before  the  "smoke." 

The  glory  of  the  morning,  as  seen  from  the  elevated  quar 
ter-deck,  was  a  new  delight  to  Inez.  She  watched  at  first 
for  a  handkerchief  or  some  other  token  of  farewell  from  one 
or  another  veranda  as  they  passed  plantations  which  were 
within  the  range  of  a  ride  or  sail  from  her  own  home.  After 
ward,  even  as  the  settlement  became  rather  more  sparse, 
there  was  still  the  matchless  beauty  of  heavy  clumps  of 
green,  and  of  the  long  shadows  of  early  morning.  Even  in 
the  autumn  colors,  nothing  can  tame  the  richness  of  the 
foliage ;  and  the  contrast  rendered  by  patches  of  ripening 
sugar-cane  or  other  harvests  is  only  the  more  striking  from 
the  loyal  and  determined  verdure  of  trees  which  will  not 
change,  but  always  speak,  not  of  spring,  but  of  perennial 
summer. 

The  crew  felt  all  the  importance  of  the  expedition.  Often 
as  they  had  gone  down  the  river  with  one  or  another  cargo 
to  Orleans,  few  of  them  had  ever  voyaged  for  any  consider 
able  distance  up  the  stream.  This  was  terra  incognita  into 
which  they  were  coming.  Not  but  they  had  heard  many  a 
story,  extravagant  enough  too,  of  the  marvels  of  the  river, 
from  one  or  another  flat-boatman  who  had  availed  himself  of 
the  hospitalities  of  the  plantation  for  his  last  night  before 
arriving  at  the  city.  But  these  stories  were  not  very  con 
sistent  with  each  other;  and,  while  the  negroes  half  believed 
them,  they  half  disbelieved  at  the  same  time.  To  go  bo  y 
into  the  presence  of  these  unknown  marvels  was  an  experi 
ence  wholly  unexpected  by  each  of  them.  Even  Caesar  the 
old  cook,  Sancho,  and  Paul  the  bosman,  were  shaken  from 
their  ba/ance  or  propriety  by  an  adventure  so  strange  ;  and 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  25 

the  preparations  they  had  made  for  the  voyage,  and  the 
orders  they  had  given  to  the  men  who  were  to  leave  home 
for  a  period  so  unusual,  all  showed  that  they  regarded  this 
event  as  by  far  the  most  important  of  their  lives. 

All  the  same  the  bosman  gave  out  a  familiar  and  sonorous 
song,  and  all  the  same  the  rowers  joined  heartily  in  the  words. 
And  when  he  cunningly  inserted  some  new  words,  with  an 
allusion  to  the  adventures  before  them,  and  to  the  treasures 
of  silver  which  all  parties  would  bring  back  from  the  Caddo 
mines,  a  guffaw  of  satisfaction  showed  that  all  parties  were 
well  pleased.  And  the  readiness  with  which  they  caught  up 
such  of  the  words  as  came  into  the  refrain  showed  that  they 
were  in  no  sort  dispirited,  either  by  the  fatigue  or  the  danger 
of  the  undertaking  before  them. 

The  song  was  in  the  crudest  French  dialect  used  by  the 
plantation  slaves.  The  air  was  that  of  a  little  German  march 
ing  song,  which  the  quick-eared  negroes  had  caught  from 
German  neighbors  on  the  coast ;  old  veterans  of  Frederick's, 
very  likely.  In  the  more  polished  rendering  into  which  Inez 
and  her  aunt  reduced  it,  before  their  long  voyage  was  over, 
still  crude  enough  to  give  some  idea  of  the  simplicity  of  the 
original,  it  re-appeared  in  these  words  :  — 

"  Earkeys,  make  this  dug-out  hurry  ;   Tires, 
Boys  behind,  begin  to  row  ;   Tirez. 
And  don't  let  misses  have  to  worry  : 
Misses  have  to  worry  when  the  light  of  day  is  gone  ;  Tirez, 

Lazy  dogs  there  behind,  are  your  paddles  all  broke  ? 
Lazy  dogs  there  before,  have  you  all  lost  the  stroke  ? 
Farewell !     Farewell !     Farewell  —  farewell, 
Farewell  !     Dear  girl !     Farewell  —  farewell. 

Up  the  Mississippi  River  ;  Tirez. 

Caddoes  have  a  silver-mine  ;  Tirez. 

My  sweetheart  takes  to  all  I  give  her, 

All  that  I  can  give  her  when  my  misses  is  come  home ;   Tint. 


26  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

u  Lazy  dogs  there  behind,  are  your  paddles  all  broke  ? 
Lazy  dogs  there  before,  have  you  all  lost  the  stroke  ? 
Farewell !    Farewell  I    Farewell  —  farewell, 
Farewell !    Dear  girl !     Farewell — farewell."1 

It  will  not  do,  however,  to  describe  the  detail  from  day  to 
day,  even  of  adventures  so  new  to  Inez  and  all  her  com 
panions  as  were  these.  For  a  day  or  two  the  arrangements 
which  Mr.  Perry  had  made  were  such,  that  they  made  harbor 
for  each  night  with  some  outlying  frontiersman's  family.  The 
only  adventure  which  startled  them  took  place  one  morning 
after  they  were  a  little  wonted  to  their  voyage  in  the  wilder 
ness. 

By  the  laws  of  all  river  craft,  the  hands  were  entitled  every 
day,  at  the  end  of  two  hours,  to  a  rest,  if  only  to  take  breath. 
Everybody  lighted  a  pipe,  and  the  rest  was  called  the  "  smok- 
ing-halt."  The  boat  was  run  up  to  the  shore  ;  and  the  ladies 
would  walk  along  a  little  way,  ordering  the  boatmen  to  take 
them  up  when  they  should  overtake  them. 

Inez  had,  one  morning,  already  collected  a  brilliant  bou 
quet,  when,  at  a  turning  of  the  river,  she  came  -out  on  an 

1  Readers  who  find  themselves  on  some  placid  lake,  river,  or  bayou  in  an  autumn 
day,  should  autumn  ever  come  again,  may  like  to  intwine  the  words  of  the  song 
in  the  meshes  of  the  German  air.  Here  it  is. 


CHORUS. 


a  tempo. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  27 

unexpected  encampment.  A  cloud  of  smoke  rose  from  a 
smouldering  fire,  a  dozen  Indian  children  were  chasing  each 
other  to  and  fro  in  the  shrubbery,  the  mothers  of  some  of 
them  were  at  work  by  the  fire,  and  the  men  of  the  party  were 
lounging  upon  the  grass.  Four  or  five  good-sized  canoes 
drawn  up  upon  the  shore  showed  where  the  whole  party  had 
come  from  :  each  canoe  bore  at  the  head  a  stag's  head  fixed 
on  a  pronged  stick,  as  a  sort  of  banner,  whether  of  U'jurnph 
or  of  festivity. 

Inez  and  Eunice  had  so  often  welcomed  such  parties  at 
the  plantation,  that  neither  of  them  showed  any  alarm  or 
anxiety  when  they  came  so  suddenly  out  upon  the  little 
encampment.  But  Inez  did  have  a  chance  to  say,  "  Dear 
old  Chios !  she  is  a  true  prophet  so  soon.  There  are  the 
fires,  and  here  are  we.  Dear  auntie,  pray  take  the  first 
turn."  Both  of  them,  very  likely,  would  have  been  glad 
enough  to  avoid  the  rencontre;  but  as  they  were  in  for  it, 
and  had  no  near  base  to  retreat  upon,  they  advanced  as  if 
cordially,  and  greeted  the  nearest  woman  with  a  smile  and  a 
few  words  of  courtesy. 

In  a  minute  the  half-naked  children  had  gathered  in  three 
little  groups,  the  smaller  hiding  behind  the  larger,  and  all 
staring  at  the  ladies  with  a  curiosity  so  fresh  and  undisguised, 
that  it  seemed  certain  they  had  never  seen  such  people,  or 
at  the  least  such  costumes,  before.  It  was  clear  enough  in  a 
minute  more  that  the  Indian  women  did  not  understand  a 
syllable  of  the  words  which  their  fairer  sisters  addressed  to 
them.  One  or  two  of  the  men  rose  from  the  ground,  and 
joined  in  the  interview,  but  with  little  satisfaction  as  far 
as  any  interchange  of  ideas  went.  Both  parties,  however, 
showed  a  friendly  spirit.  The  Indian  women  went  sr  far 
as  to  offer  broiled  fish  and  fresh  grapes  to  the  ladies.  These 
declined  the  hospitality ;  but  Inez,  taking  from  her  neck  a 
little  scarlet  scarf,  beckoned  to  her  the  prettiest  child  in  the 
group  nearest  to  her,  and  tied  it  round  the  girl's  neck.  The 


•3  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS', 

little  savage  was  pleased  beyond  words  with  the  adornment, 
slipped  from  her  grasp,  and  ran  with  absurd  vanity  from  one 
group  to  another  to  show  off  her  new  acquisition. 

"  What  would  my  dear  Madame  Faustine  say,  if  she  knew 
that  her  dearly  beloved  scarf  was  so  soon  adorning  the  neck 
of  a  dirty  savage  ? " 

"  She  would  say,  if  she  were  not  a  goose,"  said  Eunice, 
"  that  you  will  have  the  whole  tribe  on  you  for  scarfs  now  ; 
and,  as  you  have  not  thirty,  that  you  have  parted  with  your 
pretty  scarf  for  nothing." 

Sure  enough,  every  little  brat  of  the  half-naked  company 
came  around  them,  to  try  the  natural  languages  of  beggary. 
Inez  laughed  heartily  enough,  but  shook  her  head,  and  tried 
if  they  would  not  understand  "  No,  no,  no  !  "  if  she  only 
said  it  fast  enough. 

"  We  can  do  better  than  that,"  said  Eunice.  "  We  may  as 
well  make  a  treaty  with  them,  as  you  have  begun.  We  will 
wait  here  for  the  boat.  I  am  horribly  afraid  of  them  ;  but, 
if  we  pretend  not  to  be  frightened,  that  will  be  next  best  to 
meeting  nobody  at  all." 

So  she  patted  two  dirty  little  brats  upon  the  cheeks,  took 
another  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  to  the  shade  of  a  China-tree 
which  grew  near  the  levee,  and  there  sat  down. 

The  children  thought,  perhaps,  that  they  were  to  be  roasted 
and  eaten  ;  for  the  tales  of  the  Attakapas,  or  man-eaters  of 
the  coast,  travelled  west  as  well  as  east.  But  they  showed 
all  the  aplomb  of  their  race,  and,  if  they  were  to  be  eaten, 
meant  to  be  eaten  without  groaning.  In  a  moment  more, 
however,  they  had  forgotten  their  tears. 

Eunice  had  torn  from  the  book  she  held  in  her  hand  the 
blank  leaf  at  the  end.  She  folded  a  strip  of  the  paper  six  or 
eight  times,  and  then  with  her  pocket-scissors  cut  out  the  fig 
ure  of  a  leaping  Indian.  The  feathers  in  his  head-dress  were, 
as  she  said  to  Inez,  quite  expressive ;  and  his  posture  was 
Bavage  enough  for  the  reddest.  The  children  watched  her 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  29 

with  amazement,  the  group  enlarging  itself  from  moment  to 
moment.  So  soon  as  the  leaping  savage  was  completed, 
Eunice  unfolded  the  paper,  and  of  course  produced  eight 
leaping  savages,  who  held  each  other  by  the  hands.  These 
she  brought  round  into  a  ring,  and  by  a  stitch  fastened  the 
outer  hands  together.  She  placed  the  ring  of  dancers,  thus 
easily  made,  upon  her  book,  and  then  made  them  slide  up  and 
down  upon  the  cover. 

The  reticence  of  these  babes  of  the  woods  was  completely 
broken.  They  shouted  and  sang  in  their  delight ;  and  even 
their  phlegmatic  fathers  and  mothers  were  obliged  to  draw 
near. 

Eunice  followed  up  her  advantage.  This  time  her  ready 
scissors  cut  out  a  deer,  with  his  nose  down ;  and,  as  the  paper 
was  unfolded,  two  deer  were  smelling  at  the  same  root  in  the 
ground.  Rings  of  horses,  groups  of  buffaloes,  rabbits,  ante 
lopes,  and  other  marvels,  followed ;  and  the  whole  company 
was  spellbound,  and,  indeed,  v/ould  have  remained  so  as  long 
as  Eunice  continued  her  magic  creations,  when  Inez  whispered 
to  her,  — 

"  I  see  the  boat  coming." 

Eunice  made  no  sign  of  the  satisfaction  she  felt,  but  bade 
Inez  walk  quietly  to  the  bend  of  the  stream,  and  wave  her 
handkerchief  ;  and  the  girl  did  so. 

Eunice  quietly  finished  the  group  which  engaged  her,  and 
then,  singling  out  the  youngest  of  the  girls,  with  a  pointed 
gesture  gave  one  of  the  much-coveted  marvels  to  each  of  them, 
Hung  away  the  scraps  of  cut  paper  from  her  lap,  and  sprang 
quickly  to  her  feet. 

The  flying  bits  of  paper  were  quite  enough  to  arrest  the 
attention  of  the  warriors,  and  they  scattered  in  eager  pursuit 
of  them. 

A  minute  more,  and  the  boat  was  at  the  rudiment  of  a 
levee  which  had  already  begun  to  form  itself.  The  girls 
sprang  on  board  again,  not  sorry  to  regain  the  protection  of 


30  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

their  party ;  and  Eunice  inwardly  resolved  to  run  no  more 
such  risks  while  she  was  commander  of  the  expedition. 

"Wouldn't  have  dared  to  do  nothin',"  said  old  Ransom, 
concealing  by  a  square  lie  his  own  anxiety  at  the  rencontre. 
"  They's  all  cowards  and  liars,  them  redskins  be  ;  but  if  you 
go  walkin'  agin,  Miss  Eunice,  better  call  me  to  go  with  you : 
they's  all  afraid  of  a  white  man." 

"  Ah,  well,  Ransom,  they  were  very  civil  to  us  to-day ;  and 
I  believe  I  have  made  forty  friends  at  the  cost  of  z  little 
white  paper." 

None  the  less  was  Eunice  mortified  and  annoyed  that  she 
should  have  had  a  fright  —  for  a  fright  it  was  —  so  early  in 
their  enterprise.  It  had  been  arranged  with  care,  that  at 
night  they  should  tarry  at  plantations,  while  plantations 
lasted ;  but  from  Point  Coupde  to  Natchitoches,  where  they 
were  to  join  Capt.  Nolan's  party,  was  fifty-five  leagues,, 
which,  at  the  best  the  "  patron  "  could  do,  would  cost  them 
six  or  seven  days  ;  and  she  did  not  hope  for  even  a  log-cabin 
on  the  way  for  all  that  distance.  And  now,  even  before  that 
weakest  spot  in  their  line,  she  had  walked  into  a  camp  of 
these  red  rascals,  who  would  have  made  no  scruple  of  strip 
ping  from  them  all  that  they  carried  or  wore. 

"  All's  well  that  ends  well,  auntie,"  said  Inez,  as  she  saw 
her  aunt's  anxiety. 

But  none  the  less  did  Eunice  feel  that  anxiety.  Ransom, 
she  saw,  felt  it ;  and  the  good  fellow  was,  not  more  careful, 
but  ten  times  more  eager  to  show  that  he  was  careful,  at 
every  encampment.  The  patron,  who  was  wholly  competent 
to  the  charge  given  him,  with  the  utmost  respect  and  def 
erence  vied  with  Ransom  in  his  arrangements.  From  this 
moment  forward  the  ladies  were  watched  with  a  surveillance 
which  would  made  Eunice  angry,  had  she  not  seen  that  it  was 
meant  so  kindly. 

This  caution  and  assiduity  were  not  without  their  effect 
upon  her.  But,  all  the  same,  her  relief  was  infinite,  when  on 
the  night  when  they  hauled  up,  rather  later  than  usual,  below 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  31 

the  rapids  of  the  Red  River,  she  was  surprised  by  hearing 
her  own  name  in  a  friendly  voice,  and  Capt.  Nolan  sprang  on 
board. 

He  had  met  them  two  or  three  days  earlier  than  he 
expected. 


32  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 


CHAPTER  III. 

* 

PHILIP   NOLAN. 
"  Bid  them  stand  in  the  king's  name." 

To  Philip  Nolan  and  his  companions  is  due  that  impres 
sion  of  American  courage  and  resource,  which  for  nearly  half 
a  century  impressed  the  Spanish  occupants  of  Texas,  until, 
in  the  year  1848,  they  finally  surrendered  this  beautiful  region, 
however  unwillingly,  to  the  American  arms  and  arts. 

For  ten  years  before  the  period  of  this  story,  scarcely  any 
person  had  filled  a  place  more  distinguished  among  the 
American  voyagers  on  the  Mississippi,  or  the  American 
settlers  on  its  eastern  banks,  than  had  PHILIP  NOLAN. 

His  reputation  was  founded  first  on  his  athletic  ability, 
highly  esteemed  among  an  athletic  race.  He  had  had  inti 
mate  relations  with  the  Spanish  governors  of  Louisiana ;  but 
no  one  doubted  his  loyalty  to  his  native  land.  He  under 
stood  the  Indians  thoroughly,  as  the  reader  will  have  occasion 
to  see.  He  had  a  passion  for  the  wilderness,  and  for  the  life 
of  the  forest  and  prairie  ;  but  he  was  well  educated,  whether 
for  commerce  or  for  command ;  and  Spanish  governors,  Or 
leans  merchants,  and  American  generals  and  secretaries  of 
state,  alike  were  glad  to  advise  with  him,  and  profited  by  his 
rare  information  of  the  various  affairs  intrusted  to  their  care, 
—  information  which  he  had  gained  by  personal  inspection 
and  inquiry. 

Once  and  again  had  Philip  Nolan,  fortified  by  official  safe 
guards,  crossed  into  Texas,  hunted  wild  horses  there,  and 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  33 

brought  them  back  into  the  neighborhood  of  New  Orleans, 
or  the  American  settlements  of  the  Mississippi,  to  a  good 
market.  A  perfect  judge  of  horses,  an  enthusiastic  lover  of 
them,  he  was  more  pleased  with  such  adventure  than  with 
what  he  thought  the  humdrum  lines  of  trade  His  early 
training,  indeed,  had  been  so  far  that  of  a  soldier,  that  he 
was  always  hoping  for  a  campaign.  With  every  new  breath 
of  a  quarrel  between  the  United  States  and  Spain,  he  hoped 
that  his  knowledge  of  the  weak  spots  in  the  Spanish  rule 
might  prove  of  service  to  his  own  country.  Indeed,  if  the 
whole  truth  could  be  told,  it  would  probably  appear,  that,  for 
the  last  year  or  two  before  the  reader  meets  him,  Nolan  had 
been  lying  on  his  oars,  or  looking  around  him,  waiting  for 
the  hoped-for  war  which,  as  he  believed,  would  sweep  the 
forces  of  the  King  of  Spain  out  from  this  magnificent  country, 
which  they  held  to  such  little  purpose.  Disappointed  in  such 
hopes,  he  had  now  undertaken,  for  the  third  time,  an  expedi 
tion  to  collect  horses  in  Texas  for  sale  on  the  Mississippi.1 

Silas  Perry  knew  Nolan  so  well,  and  placed  in  him  confi 
dence  so  unlimited,  that  he  had  with  little  hesitation  accepted 
the  offer  of  his  escort  made  first  in  jest,  but  renewed  in 
utter  earnest,  as  soon  as  the  handsome  young  adventurer 
found  that  his  old  friend  looked  upon  it  seriously.  Nolan 
had  represented  that  he  had  a  party  large  enough  to  secure 
the  ladies  from  Indians  or  from  stragglers.  The  ways  were 
perfectly  familiar  to  him,  and  to  more  than  one  of  those  with 
him.  Their  business  itself  would  take  them  very  near  to 
San  Antonio,  if  not  quite  there ;  and,  without  the  slightest 
difficulty,  he  could  and  would  see  that  the  ladies  were  safely 
confided  to  Major  Barelo's  care. 

l  The  writer  of  this  tale,  by  an  oversight  which  he  regrets,  and  has  long  re 
gretted,  spoke  of  this  venturous  and  brave  young  Kentuckian  as  Stephen  Nolan  in 
a  story  published  in  1863.  The  author  had  created  an  imaginary  and  mythical 
brother  of  Nolan's,  to  whom  he  gave  the  name  of  Philip  Nolan,  and  to  whom  he 
gave  a  place  in  the  army  of  the  United  States.  Ever  since  he  discovered  his  mis 
take,  he  has  determined  to  try  to  give  to  the  true  Philip  Nolan  such  honors  as  he 
could  pay  to  a  name  to  which  this  young  man  gave  true  honor.  With  this  wish 
he  attempts  the  little  narrative  of  his  life,  which  forms  a  pait  of  this  story'. 


34  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

So  soon  as  this  proposal  had  been  definitely  stated,  it  met 
with  the  entire  approval  of  Miss  Inez.  This  needs  scarcely 
be  said.  To  a  young  lady  of  her  age,  three  hundred  miles 
of  riding  on  horseback  seems  three  hundred  times  as  charm 
ing  as  one  mile ;  and  even  one,  with  a  good  horse  and  a  good 
cavalier,  is  simply  perfection.  All  the  votes  Miss  Inez  could 
give  from  the  beginning  were  given  in  plumpers  for  the  plan. 

Nor  had  it  met  the  objection  which  might  have  been  ex 
pected  from  the  more  sedate  and  venerable  Miss  Eunice.  It 
is  true,  this  lady  was  more  than  twice  Inez's  age ;  but  even 
at  thirty-five  one  is  not  a  pillar  of  salt,  nor  wholly  indisposed 
to  adventure.  Eunice's  watchful  eye  also  had  observed  many 
reasons,  some  physical  and  some  more  subtle,  why  it  would 
be  for  the  advantage  of  Inez  to  be  long  absent  from  Orleans. 
Perhaps  she  would  have  shed  no  tears  had  she  been  told  that 
the  girl  should  never  see  that  town  again.  So  long  as  she 
was  a  child,  it  had  not  been  difficult  to  arrange  that  the 
society  she  kept  should  be  only  among  children  whose  lan 
guage,  thought,  and  habit  would  not  hurt  her.  But  Inez  was 
a  woman  now, —  a  very  lovely,  simple,  pure,  and  conscientious 
woman,  it  was  t~ue ;  but,  for  all  that,  Eunice  was  not  more 
inclined  to  see  the  girl  exposed  to  the  follies  and  extrava 
gances  of  the  exaggerated  French  or  Spanish  life  of  the 
little  colony,  especially  while  her  father  was  in  Europe.  And 
'Eunice  was  afraid,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  life,  only  too 
luxurious,  which  they  led  in  the  city  and  on  the  plantation, 
did  not  strengthen  the  girl,  as  she  would  fain  have  her 
strengthened,  against  the  constitutional  weakness  which  had 
'brought  her  mother  to  an  early  grave.  Eunice  saw  no  reason 
why,  at  sixteen  years  of  age,  Inez  should  not  lead  a  life  as 
simple,  as  much  exposed  to  the  open  climate,  and  as  depen 
dent  on  her  own  resources,  as  she  herself,  with  the  advan 
tages  :and  disadvantages  of  Squam  Bay,  had  led  when  she 
•was  a  girl  just  beginning  to  be  a  woman. 

'Eunice  Perry  and  Philip  Nolan  were  almost  of  the  same 
and  .those  who  knew  them  both,  and  who  saw  how 


OR,  "SHOW  POUR  PASSPORTS:*  35 

intimate  the  handsome  young  Kentuckian  was  in  the  comfort 
able  New  England  household  of  Silas  Perry,  whether  in  the 
town  house  or  plantation  house,  were  forever  gossiping  and 
wondering,  were  saying  now  that  he  was  in  love  with  Eunice, 
now  that  she  was  in  love  with  him ;  now  that  they  were  to 
be  married  at  Easter,  and  now  that  the  match  was  broken 
off  at  Michaelmas. 

From  the  time  when  he  first  appeared  in  Orleans,  almost  a 
boy,  with  the  verdure  of  his  native  village  still  clinging  to 
him,  but  none  the  less  cheerful,  manly,  courageous,  enterpris 
ing,  and  handsome,  he  had  found  a  friend  in  Silas  Perry; 
and  the  office  of  the  New  England  merchant  was  one  of  the 
first  places  to  which  he  would  have  gone  for  counsel.  It  was 
not  long  before  the  shrewd  and  hearty  New  Englander,  who 
knew  men,  and  knew  what  men  to  trust,  began  to  take  the 
youngster  home  with  him.  Those  were  in  the  days  when 
Inez  was  in  her  cradle,  and  when  Eunice  was  a  stranger  in 
Louisiana. 

Silas  Perry  had  been  Philip  Nolan's  counsellor,  employer, 
and  friend.  Philip  Nolan  had  been  Silas  Perry's  pupil, 
agent,  messenger,  and  friend.  Eunice  Perry  had  been  Philip 
Nolan's  frequent  companion,  his  more  frequent  confidante, 
and  most  frequently  his  friend ;  and,  as  such  friendship  had 
been  tested,  there  were  a  thousand  good  offices  which  she 
had  asked  of  him,  and  never  asked  in  vain.  An  intimacy  so 
sincere  as  this,  the  growth  of  years  of  confidence,  made  it 
natural  to  all  parties  that  Eunice  and  Inez  should  under 
take  their  journey  under  the  escort  of  this  soldier  who  was 
not  quite  a  merchant,  and  this  merchant  who  was  not  quite  a 
soldier, — Philip  Nolan. 

"  But  you  are  all  alone,  Capt.  Phil,"  said  Inez,  expressing 
in  the  very  frankest  way  the  pleasure  which  the  meeting, 
hardly  expected,  with  her  old  friend  afforded  her.  "  Where 
is  our  army  ? " 

"  Our  army  has  gone  in  advance,  to  free  the  prairies  of  any 
marauding  throngs  who  might  press  too  close  on  the  princess 
who  deigns  to  visit  them." 


36  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

"Which  means,  being  interpreted,  I  suppose,  that  th ; 
army  is  buying  corn  at  Natchitoches,"  said  Eunice. 

"Yes,  and  no,"  said  he,  a  little  gravely,  as  she  fancied. 
"We  shall  find  them  near  Natchitoches  if  we  do  not  find 
them  this  side.  I  must  talk  with  my  friend  the  patron,  and 
see  if  I  can  persuade  him  to  give  up  your  luxurious  boat  tor 
one  that  I  have  chartered  above  the  rapids.  I  have  not 
much  faith  that  the  '  Donna  Maria,'  or  the  '  Dolores,'  or  the 
'Sea  Gull,'  —  which  name  has  she  to-day,  Miss  Inez?  —  that 
this  sumptuous  frigate  of  ours  can  be  got  through  the  rapids 
so  easily  as  we  thought  at  your  father's.  But  I  have  what 
is  really  a  very  tidy  boat  above;  and,  before  you  ladies  are 
awake  in  the  morning,  we  will  see  if  you  are  to  change  your 
quarters." 

"  And  must  I  leave  thee,  my  Martha  ? "  cried  Inez  in  a 
voice  of  mock  tragedy.  "  Capt.  Nolan,  she  is  the  '  Martha,' 
named  after  the  wife  of  the  Father  of  his  Country.  In  leaving 
the  proud  banner  of  Spain,  under  which  I  was  born,  to  pass, 
though  only  for  a  few  happy  hours,  under  the  stars  and 
stripes,  accompanied  by  this  noble  friend  whom  I  see  I  need 
not  present  to  you,  —  Miss  Perry,  Gen.  Nolan ;  a  lady  of 
the  very  highest  rank  of  the  New  England  nobility,  —  accom 
panied,  I  say,  by  an  American  lady  of  such  distinction,  I 
ordered  the  steersman  of  my  bark  to  keep  always  in  the 
eastern  side  of  the  river,  in  that  short  but  blessed  interval 
before  we  entered  this  redder  but  more  Spanish  stream." 

The  young  American  of  1876  must  remember  that  in  1800 
both  the  east  and  west  sides  of  the  Mississippi  were  ""panish 
territory,  up  to  the  southern  line  of  our  present  State  of  that 
name.  Above  that  point,  the  eastern  half  of  the  river  was 
"  American,"  the  western  half  was  Spanish.  For  a  few  miles 
before  the  boat  had  come  into  the  Red  River,  she  had  in  fact 
been  floating,  as  Inez  thought,  in  American  waters ;  and  the 
girl  had  made  more  than  one  chance  to  land  on  American 
soil,  though  it  was  the  mud  of  a  canebrake,  for  the  first  time 
of  her  life.  All  parties  had  joined  in  her  enthusiasm  ;  and 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  37 

they  had  fixed  a  bivouac  on  this  little  stretch  of  her  father's 
land.  So  soon  as  they  entered  the  Red  River,  they  were 
under  Spanish  jurisdiction  once  more. 

Nolan  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  girl's  banter ;  and  they 
knew  very  well  that  it  was  not  all  fun. 

"  What  a  pity  that  your  ladyship  could  not  have  come  to 
Fort  Adams,  6r  to  Natchez,1  to  begin  with  us ! "  he  said. 

Natchez,  then  a  village  of  six  hundred  inhabitants,  was  the 
southernmost  town  in  the  United  States.  It  was  Nolan's  own 
headquarters,  and  from  there  his  expedition  had  started. 

"  Your  grace  should  have  seen  the  stars  and  stripes  flying 
from  the  highest  flagstaff  in  the  West.  I  should  have  been 
honored  by  the  presence  of  your  highnesses  at  my  humble 
quarters.  Indeed,  my  friend  the  major-general  commanding 
at  Fort  Adams  would  have  saluted  your  royal  highnesses' 
arrival  by  a  salvo  of  sixteen  guns ;  and,  the  moment  your 
majesty  entered  the  works  of  that  fortress,  every  heart  would 
have  been  yours,  as  every  recruit  presented  arms.  A  great 
pity,  Miss  Inez,  you  had  not  come  up  to  Natchez.  But  what 
does  my  friend  Ransom  think  of  all  this  voyaging  ?  " 

Inez  called  him. 

"  Ransom !  Capt.  Nolan  wants  to  know  how  you  liked 
coming  back  into  your  own  country." 

"  Evenin',  captain." 

This  was  Ransom's  only  reply  to  the  cordial  salutation  of 
the  young  Kentuckian,  who  was,  however,  one  of  Ransom's 
very  few  favorites. 

"  Miss  Inez  says  you  spent  Monday  night  in  the  United 
States." 

"Patron  says  so  too,"  replied  the  sententious  Ransom. 
"Don't  know  nothin'.  Much  as  ever  can  make  them  niggers 
pull  the  boat  along.  Wanted  to  walk  myself:  could  walk 
faster  than  all  en  'em  can  row,  put  together.  Told  the 

1  The  reader  must  note  that  Natchez  on  the  Mississippi,  Natchitoches  on  the 
Red  River,  and  Nacogdoches  on  the  Angelina  River,  are  three  different  towns. 
The  names  seem  to  have  been  derived  from  the  same  roots. 


38  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

patron  so.  We  slept  in  a  canebrake ;  wust  canebrake  we  sse 
since  we  left  home.  Patron  said  it  was  Ameriky.1  Patron 
don't  know  nothin'.  Ain't  no  canebrakes  in  Ameriky." 

"There's  something  amazingly  like  them  for  the  first 
thousand  or  two  miles  of  Miss  Inez's  journey  there,"  said 
Nolan,  laughing.  "  Any  way,  I'm  glad  the  alligators  did  not 
eat  her  up,  and  you  too,  Ransom." 

"  They'd  like  to.  Didn't  give  'em  no  chance,"  replied  the 
old  man,  with  a  beaming  expression  on  his  countenance. 
"Loaded  the  old  double-barrel  with  two  charges  of  buck 
shot,  sot  up  myself  outside  her  tent.  Darned  critters  knew 
it  'zwell  as  I  did ;  didn't  dare  come  nigh  her  all  night  long." 

"  You  should  have  given  them  pepper,  Ransom.  Throw  a 
little  red  pepper  on  the  water,  and  it  makes  the  bull  alligators 
sneeze.  That  frightens  all  the  others,  and  they  go  twenty 
miles  off  before  morning." 

Inez  was  laughing  herself  to  death  by  this  time,  but 
checked  herself  in  time  to  ask  whether  she  might  not  fly  the 
stars  and  stripes  on  the  "  Lady  Martha." 

"What's  the  use  of  calling  her  the  'Lady  Martha'  only 
for  these  four  or  five  miles?  And  my  dear  silk  flag:  is  it 
not  a  beauty,  Capt.  Nolan  ?  I  made  it  with  my  own  fair 
hands.  And  if  you  knew  how  to  sew,  Capt.  Nolan,  you 
would  know  how  hard  it  is  to  sew  stars  into  blue  silk,  —  silk 
stars  too.  I  never  should  have  done  it  but  for  Sister  Fe'licie : 
she  helped  me  out  of  hours ;  and  I  wish  I  did  hot  think  she 
was  doing  penance  now.  But  is  it  not  a  beauty  ?  Look  at 
it ! "  and  she  flung  her  pretty  flag  open  over  her  knees  and 
Eunice's.  "  All  your  stripes,  you  see,  with  the  white  on  the 
outside,  as  you  taught  me.  And  I  did  not  faint  nor  shirk 
for  one  star,  though  mortal  strength  did  tire,  and  Sister 
Fe'licie  did  have  to  help ;  but  there  are  all  the  sixteen  there. 
That  one  with  the  little  blood-spot  on  it  is  Vermont:  I 
pricked  my  finger  horridly  for  Vermont ;  and  that  is  your 
dear  Kentucky,  captain  ;  and  that  is  Tennessee." 

l  The  use  of  the  words  "  America  "  for  the  United  States,  and  "  Americans  " 
for  their  people,  ras  universal  among  the  Spaniards,  even  at  thi?  «ar!v  day. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  39 

Nolan  bowed,  and,  this  time  with  no  mock  felling,  kissed 
the  star  which  the  girl  pointed  out  for  his  own  State. 

"  May  I  not  fly  it  to-morrow  morning  ?  Was  it  only  made 
for  that  little  sail  through  the  canebrakes  ?  " 

Nolan's  face  clouded  a  little,  —  a  little  more  than  he  meant 
it  should. 

"  Just  here,  and  just  now,"  he  said,  "  I  think  we  had  better 
not  show  it.  Not  that  I  suppose  we  should  meet  anybody 
who  would  care  ;  but  they  are  as  stupid  as  owls,  and  as  much 
frightened  as  rabbits.  It  was  cnly  that  very  same  Monday, 
that  we  met  a  whole  company  of  Greasers  (that  is  what  my 
men  called  them)  ;  and  we  had  to  show  our  passports." 

Inez  asked  him  what  he  showed;  and  with  quite  unne 
cessary  precision,  — precision  which  did  not  escape  Eunice's 
quiet  observation,  —  he  told  her  that  he  had,  for  his  whole 
party,  Gov.  Pedro  de  Nava's  pass  to  Texas  and  to  return ;  that 
he  even  had  private  letters  from  Gov.  Casa  Calvo  to  Cordero, 
the  general  in  command  at  the  Alamo.  Eunice  said  that  the 
marquis  had  been  only  too  courteous  in  providing  her  also 
with  a  passport  for  their  whole  party ;  he  would  have  sent 
an  escort,  had  his  friend  Mr.  Perry  suggested.  "  Indeed,  the 
whole  army  was  at  the  service  of  the  Donna  Eunice,  as  he 
tried  to  say,  and  would  have  said,  had  my  poor  name  been 
possible  to  Spanish  lips.  Why,  Capt.  Nolan,  I  have  sealing- 
wax  enough  and  parchment  enough  for  a  king's  ransom,  if 
your  papers  were  not  enough  for  us." 

"  My  good  right  arm  shall  write  my  pass,  in  answer  to  my 
prayers,"  said  Nolan  a  little  grimly.  "  Is  not  there  some 
such  line  as  that  in  your  father's  Chapman,  Miss  Inez  ? :1 
And  he  bade  them  good-night,  as  he  went  to  seek  his  quarters 
'u  the  wretched  cabin  by  the  very  roar  of  the  rapids,  and  inti 
mated  to  the  ladies  that  they  had  best  spread  their  mattresses, 
and  be  ready  for  an  early  start  in  the  morning. 

In  truth,  Nolan  was  geographer  enough  to  know  that  the 
ladies  had  perhaps  shown  their  flag  a  little  too  early ;  but  he 
would  not  abate  a  whit  of  the  girl's  enthusiasm  for  what,  as 


40  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

he  said,  and  as  she  said,  should  have  been  her  native  land. 
Even  the  novel-reader  of  to-day  reads  with  an  atlas  of  maps  at 
his  side,  and  expects  geographical  accuracy  even  from  the 
Princess  Scheherezade  herself.  The  reader  will  understand 
the  precise  position,  by  examining  the  little  map  below,  which 
is  traced  from  an  official  report  of  that  time. 


.  The  western  boundary  cf  the  United  States  was  the  middle 
of  the  Mississippi  River.  The  southern  boundary  was  the 
line  of  31°.  The  girls  knew,  as  everybody  knew,  where  that 
line  crossed  the  river  at  different  points.  Was  the  little 
projection  opposite  the  Red  River  a  part  of  the  United 
States,  or  of  Florida  ?  Inez  and  Eunice  had  thought  they 
were  out  of  Spanish  dominion  there.  Perhaps  they  were. 
The  reader  can  judge  as  well  as  the  best  diplomatist.  Wars 
have  been  made  out  of  less  material.  The  surveyors  who 
ran  the  boundary  decided,  not  with  the  ladies,  but  with  Nolan 
and  Ransom.  Maps  of  that  time  vary ;  and  the  river  has 
since  abated  all  controversy,  by  cutting  across  the  neck  cf 
swampy  land,  and  making  the  little  peninsula  into  an 
island. 

And  it  was  only  for  the  wretched  five  miles  of  canebrake, 
between  the  line  of  31°  and  the  mouth  of  the  Red  River, 
that  the  eager  Inez,  by  keeping  her  boat  on  the  eastern 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  41 

shore,  had  even  fancied  that  she  saw  her  own  land,  and  was 
for  once  breathing  what  should  have  been  her  native  ah-. 
As  the  boat  hauled  into  the  Red  River,  she  had  hidden  her 
head  in  Eunice's  lap,  and  had  sobbed  out,  — 
"  This  poor  child  is  a  girl  without  a  country  1 " 


43  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS: 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS  !  " 

"  The  pine-tree  dreameth  of  the  palm, 

The  palm-tree  of  the  pine."  —  LORD  HOUGHTON. 

PHILIP  NOLAN  had  his  reasons  for  avoiding  long  tarry  at 
the  rapids ;  and,  when  the  new  boat  came  with  the  party  to 
the  little  port  of  Natchitoches,  he  had  the  same  reasons  for 
urging  haste  in  the  transfer  of  their  equipment  there.  These 
reasons  he  had  unfolded  to  Eunice,  and  they  were  serious. 

After  all  the  plans  had  been  made  for  this  autumn  journey, 
—  plans  which  involved  fatigue,  perhaps,  for  the  ladies,  but 
certainly  no  danger,  —  the  Spanish  officials  of  Louisiana  on 
the  one  side,  and  of  Texas  on  the  other,  had  been  seized  by 
one  of  their  periodical  quaking-fits,  —  fits  of  easy  depression, 
which  were  more  and  more  frequent  with  every  year.  Nolan 
had  come  and  gone  once  and  again,  with  Spanish  passports 
in  full  form,  from  the  governor  of  Louisiana.  The  present 
of  a  handsome  mustang  on  his  return  would  not  be  declined 
by  that  officer ;  and,  as  the  horse  grew  older,  he  would  not, 
perhaps,  be  averse  to  the  chances  of  another  expedition. 
With  just  such  free-conduct  was  Nolan  equipped  now  ;  and 
with  his  party  of  thirteen  men  he  had  started  from  Natchez 
on  the  Mississippi,  to  take  up  Miss  Eunice  and  Miss  Inez 
with  their  party  at  Natchitoches,  the  frontier  station  on  the 
Red  River.  Just  before  starting,  however,  the  Spanish  consul 
at  Natchez  had  called  the  party  before  Judge  Bruin,  the 
United  States  judge  there,  as  if  they  were  filibusters.  But 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  43 

Nolan's  passport  from  Don  Pedro  de  Nava,  the  commai.dant 
of  the  north-eastern  provinces,  was  produced ;  and  the  judge 
dismissed  the  complaint.  This  had  been,  however,  only  the 
beginning  of  trouble.  Before  Nolan  joined  the  ladies,  he 
had  hardly  passed  the  Mississippi  swamp,  —  had,  in  fact, 
tiavelled  only  forty  miles,  —  when  he  met  a  company  of  fifty 
Spanish  soldiers,  who  had  been  sent  out  to  stop  him.  Nolan's 
party  numbered  but  twenty-one.  The  Spaniards  pretended 
that  they  were  hunting  lost  horses ;  but,  so  soon  as  Nolan's 
patty  passed,  they  had  turned  westward  also,  and  were  evi 
dently  dogging  them. 

It  was  this  unfriendly  feeling  on  the  part  of  those  whom 
he  was  approaching  as  a  friend,  which  had  led  Nolan  to 
hasten  his  meeting  with  Eunice  Perry  and  her  niece,  that  he 
might,  before  it  was  too  late,  ask  them  whether  they  would 
abandon  their  enterprise,  and  return. 

But  Eunice  boldly  said  "  No."  Her  niece  was,  alas !  a 
Spanish  woman  born;  she  was  going  to  visit  a  Spanish  officer 
on  his  invitation.  If  she  had  to  show  her  passports  every 
day,  she  could  show  them.  If  Capt.  Nolan  did  not  think 
they  embarrassed  the  party,  she  was  sure  that  she  would  go 
on :  if  he  did,  why,  she  must  return,  though  unwillingly. 

"  Not  I,  indeed,  Miss  Eunice.  You  protect  us  where  we 
meant  to  protect  you.  Only  I  do  not  care  to  cross  these 
Dogberrys  more  often  than  I  can  help." 

So  it  was  determined  that  they  should  go  on,  — but  go  on 
without  the  little  halt  at  Natchitoches,  which  had  been 
intended. 

Inez  shared  in  all  the  excitement  of  a  prompt  departure, 
the  moment  the  necessity  was  communicated  to  her.  Before 
sunrise  she  was  awake,  and  dressed  in  the  prairie  dress  which 
had  been  devised  for  her.  The  four  packs  to  which  she  had 
been  bidden  to  confine  herself  —  for  two  mules,  selected  and 
ready  at  L'Ecore  —  had  been  packed  ever  since  they  left 
Orleans,  let  it  be  confessed,  by  old  Ransom's  agency,  quite 
as  much  as  by  any  tire-woman  of  her  train.  She  was  only 


44  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

too  impatient  while  old  Caesar,  the  cook,  elaborated  the  last 
river  breakfast.  She  could  not  bear  to  have  Eunice  spend 
so  much  time  in  directions  to  the  patron,  and  farewells  to 
the  boatmen,  and  messages  to  their  wives.  When  it  actually 
came  to  the  spreading  a  plaster  which  Tony  was  to  take 
back  to  his  wife,  for  a  sprain  she  had  in  her  shoulder,  Inez 
fairly  walked  off  the  boat  in  her  certainty  that  she  should 
be  cross,  even  to  Eunice,  if  she  staid  one  minute  longer. 

Old  Caesar,  at  the  last  moment,  blubbered  and  broke  down. 
"  Leave  Miss  Inez  ?  "  not  he.  What  a  pity  that  his  voluble 
Guinea-French  is  not  translatable  into  any  dialect  of  the 
Anglo- American-Norman-Creole  tongue  !  Leave  her  ?  not 
he.  He  had  her  in  his  arms  when  she  was  an  hour  old.  He 
made  her  first  doll  out  of  a  bulrush  and  some  raw  cotton. 
He  taught  her  to  suck  sugar-cane  ;  and  he  picked  pecan-meats 
for  her  before  her  mother  knew  that  she  could  eat  them. 
Should  he  leave  her  to  be  devoured  alive  by  Caddo  Indians  ? 
"  Jamais!  Imposible !  " 

"  Come  along  with  us,  then,"  said  Nolan  ;  and  he  indicated 
the  mule  which  Caesar  was  to  ride. 

And  Caesar  came  ;  and  his  history  is  written  in  with  that 
of  Texas  for  the  next  ten  years. 

As  the  sun  rose,  the  party  gathered  in  front  of  the  little 
shanty  at  which  the  most  of  the  business  of  the  landing  was 
done.  Ransom  himself  lifted  Inez  upon  her  saddle,  adjusted 
the  stirrups  forty  times,  as  if  he  had  not  himself  cut  the  holes 
in  the  leathers,  just  as  Inez  bade  him,  a  month  before.  No 
lan  watched  for  Eunice's  comfort  with  the  same  care.  Caesar 
blubbered  and  bragged,  and  sent  messages  to  the  old  woman, 
—  messages  which,  if  she  ever  received  them,  were  the  food 
on  which  she  fed  for  the  next  decade  of  married  life.  Nolan 
was  not  displeased  with  the  make-up  of  the  little  party. 
They  were  but  eight  in  all ;  but  there  was  not  a  bad  horse,  a 
bad  mule,  a  bad  man,  or  a  bad  'woman,  in  the  tram,  he  said. 
What  pleased  him  most  was  the  prompt  obedience  of  the 
women,  and  the  "  shifty  "  readiness  of  the  men.  Old  Ran- 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  45 

som  scolded  a  good  deal,  but  was  in  the  rght  place  at  the 
right  time.  And  so,  avoiding  the  village  of  Natchitoches  by 
an  easy  detour,  the  party  were  in  the  wilderness  an  hour 
before  the  military  commander  of  that  fort  knew  that  a  boat 
had  arrived  from  below,  late  the  night  before. 

When  the  Spanish  sentinel  who  had  hailed  her  found  that 
her  passengers  had  all  gone  westward,  he  thought  best  not  to 
report  their  existence  to  the  governor ;  and  so  Philip  Nolan's 
first  manoeuvre  to  escape  frontier  Dogberry  No.  i  was  per 
fectly  successful. 

In  less  than  five  minutes  the  whole  party  were  in  the  pines, 
through  which,  over  a  sandy  barren,  they  were  to  ride  for 
two  days.  It  was  as  if  they  had  changed  a  world.  To 
Eunice,  why,  the  sniff  of  that  pine  fragrance  was  the  renewal 
of  the  old  life  of  her  childhood.  To  Inez  —  not  unused  to 
forests,  but  all  unused  to  pine-trees  —  the  calm  quiet  of  all 
around,  the  aromatic  fragrance,  the  softness  of  the  pine- 
leaves  on  which  her  horse's  feet  fell,  all  wrought  a  charm 
which  overpowered  the  girl. 

"  Don't  speak  to  me  !  " 

And  they  left  her  alone. 

"  Does  this  seem  more  like  home,  Ransom  ?  "  said  Nolan, 
letting  his  horse  stand  till  the  old  man,  who  brought  up  the 
rear,  might  join  him. 

"Yes,  sir!  Pines  is  pines,  though  these  be  poor  things. 
Pine-trees  down  East  isn't  crooked  as  these  be;  good  for 
masts,  good  for  yards ;  sawed  one  on  'em  into  three  pieces 
when  they  wanted  three  masts  for  the  'Constitution.'  But 
these  has  the  right  smell.  These's  good  for  kindlin's." 

"  You  followed  the  sea  once,  Ransom  ? " 

"  Sarved  under  old  Mugford  first  year  of  the  war ;  was 
Manly 's  bo's'n  when  he  went  out  in  '77." 

"  Mugford  ? "  asked  Nolan.     "  I  don't  remember  him." 

"  Pity  you  don't.  Real  old  sea-dog ;  wasn't  afraid  of  salt 
petre.  These  fellers  now,  with  their  anchors,  and  gold  braid 
on  they  coat-collars,  don't  know  nothin'.  Old  Mugford 


46  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

never  wore  gold  lace;  didn't  have  none  to  wear.  Wore  a 
tarpaulin  and  a  pea-jacket,  when  he  could  git  it;  ef  he 
couldn't  git  it,  wore  nothin'." 

"  Where  did  you  cruise  ?  " 

"  All  along  shore.  Went  out  arter  Howe  when  the  gine  ral 
clruv  him  out  of  Boston.  Kind  o'  hung  round  and  picked  up 
this  vessel  and  that,  that  was  runnin'  into  the  bay,  cos  they 
didn't  know  the  British  was  gone.  Took  one  vessel  with  six 
guns,  and  no  end  of  powder  and  shot.  The  old  gineral  he 
was  glad  enough  of  that,  he  was.  No  end  of  powder  and 
shot :  six  guns  she  had.  Took  her  runnin'  into  the  bay. 
We  was  in  the  '  Franklin '  then." 

"  Tell  us  all  about  it,  Ransom." 

"That's  all  they  is  to  tell.  I  sighted  our  nine-pounder 
myself,  —  hulled  her  three  times,  and  she  struck.  Old  Mug- 
ford  sent  her  into  Boston,  and  stood  off  for  more." 

And  the  old  man  looked  into  the  sky  with  that  wistful  look 
again,  as  if  the  very  clouds  would  change  into  armed  vessels, 
and  renew  the  fight ;  and  for  a  moment  Nolan  thought  he 
would  say  no  more.  But  he  humored  him. 

"  Next  mornin',"  said  Ransom,  after  a  minute,  —  "  next 
mornin',  when  we  was  to  anchor  off  the  Gut,  be  hanged  if 
they  warn't  thirteen  boats  from  some  of  their  frigates  crawlin' 
up  to  us  as  soon  as  the  light  broke.  We  giv  'em  blazes, 
cap'n.  We  sunk  five  on  'em  without  askin'  leave.  Then 
they  thought  they'd  board  us.  Better  luck  'nother  time. 
Gosh !  Poor  devils  caught  hold  of  her  gunnel ;  and  we  cut 
off  their  hands  with  broad-axes,  we  did." 

"  And  Mugford  ? " 

"  Oh !  you  know  Mugford  reached  arter  one  on  'em  to  cut 
at  his  head,  and  he  got  stuck  just  here  with  a  boardin'  pike, 
'n  he  called  Abel  Turner.  I  stood  with  him  in  ma  own  arms. 
He  called  Abel  Turner,  and  says  he,  *  I'm  a  dead  man,  Tur 
ner:  don't  give  up  the  vessel.  Beat  'em  off,  beat  'em  off. 
You  can  cut  the  cable,'  says  he,  'and  run  her  ashore.' 
Didn't  say  'nother  word  :  fell  down  dead." 


OA',    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  47 

Another  pause.  Nolan  humored  him  still,  and  said  noth 
ing.  And,  after  another  wistful  glance  at  the  heavens,  the 
old  man  went  on, — 

"  Turner  see  the  frigate  was  comin'  down  on  him,  and  he 
run  her  ashore  on  Puddin'  Point ;  and  he  sot  fire  to  her,  so 
that  cruise  was  done.  But  none  o'  them  fellers  was  ever 
piped  to  grog  again,  they  wasn't;  no,  nor  old  Mugford, 
neyther." 

A  long  pause,  in  which  Nolan  let  the  old  fellow's  reminis 
cences  work  as  they  might :  he  would  not  interrupt  him. 

But  when  he  saw  the  spell  had  been  fairly  broken  by  some 
little  detention,  as  they  cared  for  the  ladies  in  the  crossing  of 
a  "  sloo  "  or  water-course,  Nolan  said  to  his  old  friend  cau 
tiously,  — 

"Did  you  see  the  general?  Did  you  see  Gen.  Washington 
when  he  drove  Howe  out  ?  " 

Nolan  spoke  with  that  kind  of  veneration  for  Washington's 
name  which  was  then,  perhaps,  at  its  very  acme,  —  at  the 
period  when  the  whole  country  was  under  the  impress  of  his 
recent  death. 

"Guess  I  did.  Seen  him  great  many  times.  I  was  standin' 
right  by  him  when  he  cum  into  the  old  tavern  at  the  head 
of  King  Street,  jest  where  the  pump  is,  by  the  Town  House. 
Gage  boarded  there,  and  Howe  and  Clinton  had  they  quar 
ters  there ;  and  so  the  gineral  come  there  when  our  army 
marched  in. 

"  They  was  a  little  gal  stood  there  starin'  at  him  and  all 
the  rest ;  and  he  took  her  up,  and  he  kissed  her,  he  did. 

"  'Ne  said  to  her,  '  Sis,'  says  he,  '  which  do  you  like  best, 
the  redcoats  or  the  Yankees  ? '  'N  the  child  says,  says  she, 
she  liked  the  redcoats  the  best, — gal-like,  you  know, — cos 
they  looked  so  nice.  'N  he  laughed  right  out,  'ne  says  to 
her,  '  Woll,'  says  he,  '  they  du  have  the  best  clothes,  but  it 
takes  the  ragged  boys  to  du  the  fightin'.'  Oh,  I  seen  him  lots 
o'  times." 

By  this  time  Nolan  thought  he  might  venture  to  join  Inez 


48  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

again.  She  was  now  talking  eagerly  with  her  aunt,  and 
seemed  to  have  passed  the  depressed  moment  which  the 
young  soldier  had  respected,  and  had  left  to  her  own  reso 
lution. 

The  truth  was,  that  a  ride  through  a  pine-forest  in  begin 
ning  a  journey  so  adventurous,  with  no  immediate  possibility 
of  a  return  to  her  father's  care,  had  started  the  girl  on  the 
train  of  memories  and  other  thoughts  which  stirred  her  most 
completely.  For  her  mother  she  had  a  veneration,  but  it 
was  simply  for  an  ideal  being.  For  her  aunt  she  had  an 
idolatrous  enthusiasm,  which  her  aunt  wholly  deserved.  For 
the  French  and  Spanish  ladies  and  gentlemen  around  her,  in 
their  constant  wars  and  jealousies  with  each  other,  she  had 
even  an  undue  contempt.  Her  father's  central  and  profound 
interest  in  his  own  country  and  its  prosperity  came  down  to 
her  in  the  form  of  a  chivalrous  passion  for  people  she  had 
never  seen,  and  institutions  and  customs  which  she  knew 
only  in  the  theory  or  the  idea.  It  would  be  hard,  indeed,  to 
tell  whether  her  Aunt  Eunice's  more  guarded  narrative  of 
her  early  life,  or  old  Ransom's  wild  exaggerations  of  the 
glories  of  New  England,  had  the  most  to  do  with  a  loyalty 
for  the  newly  born  nation  which  the  girl  found  few  ways  to 
express,  and  indeed  few  ears  to  listen  to. 

Such  a  dreamer  found  herself  now,  for  the  first  time,  in  the 
weird  silence  of  a  pine-forest,  which  she  fancied  must  be  pre 
cisely  like  the  silent  pine-groves  of  her  father's  home.  Nor 
was  any  one  cruel  enough  to  undeceive  her  by  pointing  out 
the  differences.  She  could  hear  the  soughing  of  the  wind, 
as  if  it  had  J-een  throwing  up  the  waves  upon  the  beach. 
Her  horse's  fe-t  fell  noiseless  on  the  brown  carpet  of  leaves 
'jclow  her.  A  xi  she  was  the  centre,  if  not  the  commander, 
of  a  party  all  loyal  to  her,  —  strangers  in  a  strange  land, 
threatened  perhaps,  as  it  seemed,  by  the  minions  of  this  king 
she  despised,  though  it  was  her  bad  luck  to  be  born  under  his 
banner. 

"  Surely,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  am  escaping  from   try 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  49 

thraldom,  if  it  be  only  for  a  few  days.  I  am  a  woman  now  ; 
and  in  these  forests,  at  least,  I  am  an  American." 

In  this  mood  Nolan  found  her. 

"  You  have  been  talking  with  my  dear  old  Ransom,  Capt. 
Nolan." 

"  Yes :  he  has  been  telling  me  of  his  battles.  Did  you 
know  how  often  the  old  fellow  has  been  under  fire  ?  " 

"  Know  it  ?  Could  I  not  tell  you  every  shot  he  fired  in  the 
'  Franklin '  ?  Don't  I  know  every  word  of  Mugford's,  and 
every  cruise  of  Manly's  ?  I  love  to  make  him  tell  those  old 
stories.  Capt.  Nolan,  why  did  we  not  live  in  such  times  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  we  do." 

"  Do  ?  I  wish  I  thought  so !  "  cried  the  girl.  "  The  only 
battles  I  see  are  the  madame  superior's  battles  with  his  excel 
lency  the  governor,  whether  the  Donna  Louisa  shall  learn  a 
French  verb  or  not.  I  am  sick  of  their  lies  and  their  shilly 
shally  :  are  not  you  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  harm  in  saying  to  you  that  for  two  years  1 
have  been  hoping  to  lead  a  hundred  riflemen  down  this  very 
trail." 

"  Thank  you,  Capt.  Nolan,  for  saying  something  which 
sounds  so  sensible.  Take  my  hand  upon  it,  and  count  me 
for  number  one  when  the  time  comes  to  enlist.  Have  you 
been  in  battle,  captain  ?  or  are  you  a  captain  like  "  —  and 
she  paused. 

Nolan  laughed. 

"  Like  the  governor's  aids  yonder,  with  their  feathers  and 
their  gold  lace  ?  Woe's  me,  Miss  Inez !  the  powder  I  have 
burned  has  been  sometimes  under  fire  from  the  Comanches, 
sometimes  when  I  did  not  choose  to  be  scalped  by  another 
redskin,  but  nothing  that  you  would  call  war." 

"  But  you  have  been  in  the  army.  You  brought  Capt 
Pope  to  our  house,  and  Lieut.  Pike." 

"  Oh,  yes  '  If  being  with  army  men  will  help  you,  count 
me  one.  A  good  many  of  the  oldei  officers  were  in  the  war, 
you  know.  Gen.  Wilkinson  was,  and  Col.  Freeman  was. 


50  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS, 

There  is  no  end  to  their  talk  of  war  days.  But  I  —  I  did 
nothing  but  train,  as  we  called  it,  with  the  rolunteers  at 
Frankfort,  when  we  thought  the  Indians  would  burn  us  out 
of  house  and  home." 

"  Did  you  never  —  did  you  never  —  Capt.  Nolan,  don't 
think  it  a  foolish  question  — did  you  never  see  Washington  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  he  said,  with  a  tone  that  showed  her  that  he 
would  not  laugh  at  her  eagerness.  "  But  these  men  have : 
Wilkinson  has ;  Freeman  has.  They  will  talk  by  the  hour  to 
you  about  what  he  said  and  did.  I  wish  they  had  all  loved 
him  as  well  then  as  they  say  they  did  now.  But  really,  Miss 
Inez,  I  do  believe,  that,  in  the  trying  times  that  are  just  now 
coming,  young  America  is  going  to  be  true  to  old  America. 
These  twenty  years  have  not  been  for  nothing." 

"  Say  it  again,"  said  the  girl,  with  more  feeling  than  can 
be  described. 

*'  Why,  what  goes  there  ?  "  cried  Nolan. 

He  dashed  forward ;  but  this  time  old  Ransom  rose  before 
him,  and  was  the  person  to  receive  the  challenge  of  a  Span 
ish  trooper. 

The  man  was  in  the  leathern  garments  of  the  wilderness  ; 
but  he  had  a  sash  round  his  waist,  a  cockade  in  his  hat,  and 
a  short  carbine  swinging  at  his  saddle,  distinct  enough  evi 
dences  that  he  belonged  to  the  Spanish  army.  In  a  moment 
more,  the  whole  group  of  cavaliers  approached  him,  so  that 
the  conversation,  if  such  it  may  be  called,  which  he  began 
with  Ransom,  was  continued  by  others  of  the  party. 

The  Spanish  horseman  volubly  bade  them  stop  in  the 
king's  name,  and  show  who  they  were.  He  had  orders  to 
arrest  all  travellers,  and  turn  them  back. 

"  What  did  you  tell  him,  Ransom  ?  "  said  Eunice,  as  soon 
as  she  came  up. 

"  Told  him  to  go  and  be  hanged.  Told  him  he  hadn't  got 
no  orders  to  arrest  us,  cos  the  gov'ner  had  sent  us.  Told 
him  he  didn't  know  nothin'  about  it.  Ye  brother  hed  made 
it  all  right  wl±  the  gov'ner,  and  had  gone  to  see  the  king 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  5! 

about  it.  Wen  I  told  him  about  the  king,  he  seemed  fright 
ened,  and  said  he  would  see." 

The  appearance  of  the  Spanish  sergeant  was  indeed  a 
surprise  to  all  parties.  Nolan  had  told  Eunice  that  they 
should  meet  no  one  before  they  came  to  the  Sabine  River, 
and  that  he  would  keep  himself  out  of  the  way  when  that 
time  came ;  and  now  they  had  stumbled  on  just  such  another 
party  as  he  met  the  week  before,  sent  out,  as  it  would  seem, 
simply  to  look  after  him.  Eunice,  however,  was  quite  ready 
for  the  emergency. 

She  saluted  the  Spanish  sergeant  most  courteously,  apolo 
gized  in  a  few  well-chosen  words  of  very  good  Castilian  for 
her  servant's  "  impetuosity,"  and  gave  to  the  sergeant  a  little 
travelling-bag  which  had  swung  at  her  saddle,  telling  him, 
that,  if  he  would  open  it,  he  would  find  the  pass  which  the 
Marquis  of  Casa  Calvo  had  provided  for  them,  and  his 
recommendation  to  any  troops  of  Gen.  Cordero. 

"  I  cannot  be  grateful  enough,"  she  said,  "  to  the  good 
Providence  which  has  so  soon  given  to  us  the  valorous 
protection  of  the  chivalrous  soldiers  of  the  king  of 
Spain." 

The  sergeant  bowed,  a  good  deal  surprised,  did  not  say  he 
could  not  read,  as  he  might  have  said  with  truth ;  but,  touch 
ing  his  hat  with  courtesy,  turned  to  an  officer  approaching 
him,  whose  dress  had  rather  more  of  cloth  and  rather  less 
of  leather  than  his  own,  and  indicated  that  he  would  show 
the  passport  to  him. 

Capt.  Morales  opened  and  scrutinized  both  papers,  re 
turned  them  silently  to  the  leather  satchel,  and,  with  a  low 
bow,  gave  it  back  to  Eunice. 

"  This  is  a  sufficient  pass  for  yourself,  my  lady,  and  for 
the  senorita  who  accompanies  you,  and  for  your  party.  How 
many  of  these  gentlemen  and  servants  are  of  your  party  ? 
My  officer  here  will  fill  out  the  verbal  catalogue,  which  the 
secretary  of  the  marquis  has  omitted." 

"Let  me  present  the   Senorita  Perry,  my  niece.     Here   is 


52  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

my  major-domo ;  these  three  are  servants  with  their  duties 
in  her  household  ;  the  old  negro  yonder  is  our  cook." 

The  lieutenant  entered  on  his  tablet  this  answ^i,  and 
Capt.  Morales  said,  — 

"And  who  is  the  hidalgo  behind  you,  —  the  gentleman 
vi  ho  says  nothing  ?  " 


OR.   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  53 


CHAPTER  V. 

SAVE  ME   FROM   MY   FRIENDS. 

"  My  heart's  uneasiness  is  simply  told,  — 
I  Tiate  the  Greeks,  although  they  give  me  gold : 
This  firm  right  hand  shall  foil  my  foemen's  ends, 
If  Heaven  will  kindly  save  me  from  my  friends." 

After  DRYDEN. 

"  LET  me  present  my  friend,"  said  Eunice  at  once,  without 
the  slightest  confusion. 

Nolan  meanwhile  was  sitting  listlessly  on  his  horse,  as  if 
he  did  not  understand  one  word  of  the  colloquy. 

"  Mons.  Philippe !  Mons.  Philippe  ! "  cried  Eunice,  fuming 
to  him  eagerly;  and,  as  he  rode  up,  she  addressed  him  in 
French,  saying,  "  Let  me  present  you  to  Capt.  Morales." 

And  then  to  this  officer, — 

"  This  is  my  friend,  Mons.  Philippe,  a  partner  of  my  brother 
in  his  business,  to  whom  in  his  absence  in  Paris  he  has  left 
the  charge  of  us  ladies.  He  is  kind  enough  to  act  as  the 
intendant  of  our  little  party.  May  I  ask  you  to  address  him 
in  French  ? " 

In  this  suggestion  Capt.  Morales,  who  was  already  a  little 
suspicious  when  he  found  a  woman  conducting  the  principal 
conversation  of  this  interview,  found  a  certain  excuse.  The 
Spanish  officers  in  the  government  of  Louisiana  all  spoke 
French,  as  the  people  did  who  were  under  their  command. 
They  were,  indeed,  in  large  measure  chosen  from  the  Low 
Countries,  that  they  might  be  at  home  in  that  language. 
But  tl  ere  was  no  reason  for  such  selection  in  the  appoint- 


54  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

.nent  of  officers  who  served  in  Mexico,  like  Morales;  noi 
could  Eunice,  at  the  first  glance,  be  supposed  to  kno\\ 
whether  he  spoke  French  or  not. 

In  truth,  he  did  speak  that  language  very  ill.  And,  after  a 
stately  " Bon  jour"  his  first  questions  to  Mons.  Philippe 
halted  and  broke  so  badly,  that  with  a  courtly  smile  he  ex 
cused  himself,  and  said  that  if  the  lady  would  have  the  good 
ness  to  act  as  interpreter,  he  would  avail  himself  of  her 
mediation. 

"Your  name  is  not  mentioned  on  this  lady's  passport, 
Mons.  Philippe." 

"  I  was  not  in  Orleans  when  it  was  granted.  It  is,  I  be- 
Jieve,  a  general  permit  to  the  Donna  Eunice  Perry  and  her 
party." 

"  Have  you,  then,  lately  arrived  from  Paris  ?  " 

"  The  worshipful  Don  Silas  has  just  now  sailed  for  Paris. 
For  myself,  I  only  overtook  the  ladies,  by  the  aid  of  horses 
often  changed,  at  the  rapids  of  the  Red  River.  I  count 
myself  fortunate  that  I  overtook  them.  His  Excellency  was 
himself  pleased  to  direct  me  to  use  ever)-  means  at  his  com 
mand  in  their  service,  and  I  have  done  so." 

Nolan  would  not  have  said  this  were  it  not  true.  Strange 
to  say,  it  was  literally  and  perfectly  true.  For  one  of  the 
absurdities  of  the  divided  command  which  gave  Louisiana 
to  one  Spanish  governor,  and  Texas  to  another,  at  this  time, 
was  the  preposterous  jealousy  which  maintained  between 
these  officers  a  sort  of  armed  or  guarded  relation,  as  if  one 
were  a  Frenchman  because  his  province  had  a  French  name, 
and  only  the  other  were  a  true  officer  of  the  Catholic  king, 
—  an  absurdity,  but  not  an  unusual  absurdity.  Just  such  an 
absurdity,  not  twenty  years  before,  made  the  discord  between 
Cornwallis  and  Clinton,  which  gave  to  Washington  the  vic 
tory  of  Yorktown,  and  gave  to  America  her  independence. 

So  was  it,  that,  while  the  Marquis  of  Casa  Calvo  at  New 
Orleans  was  Nolan's  cordial  friend,  Elguesebal  in  Texas  and 
De  Nava  at  Chihuahua  were  watching  and  dogging  him  as 
an  enemy. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  55 

"  Will  my  lady  ask  the  hidalgo  what  was  the  public  news 
in  Paris  ?  Our  two  crowns,  —  or,  rather,  his  Catholic  Ma 
jesty's  crown  and  the  First  Consul  of  France,  —  they  are  in 
good  accord  ?  What  were  the  prospects  of  the  treaty  ? " 

"France  and  Spain  were  never  better  friends,"  replied 
Nolan,  "if  all  is  true  that  seems.  The  public  journals 
announce  the  negotiations  of  a  treaty.  Of  its  articles  more 
secret,  even  the  Capt.  Morales  will  pardon  me  if  I  do  not 
speak.  He  will  respect  my  confidence." 

The  truth  was,  that  even  at  this  early  moment  a  suspicion 
was  haunting  men's  minds,  of  what  was  true  before  the 
month  was  over,  —  that  by  the  treaty  of  Ildefonso  the 
Spanish  king  would  cede  the  territory  of  Louisiana  to  Napo 
leon. 

Capt.  Morales  had  heard  some  rumor  of  this  policy,  even 
in  Nacogdoches.  The  allusion  to  it  made  by  Nolan  con 
firmed  him  in  his  first  suspicion,  that  this  young  Frenchman, 
who  could  speak  no  Spanish,  was  some  unavowed  agent  of 
the  First  Consul,  Napoleon. 

If  he  were,  it  was  doubtless  his  own  business  to  treat  him 
with  all  respect. 

At  the  moment,  therefore,  that  Nolan  confessed  he  must 
speak  with  reserve,  the  Spaniard's  doubts  as  to  his  character 
gave  way  entirely.  He  offered  his  hand  frankly  to  the  young 
Frenchman,  and  bade  him  and  the  lady  rely  on  his  protection. 

"  Your  party  is  quite  too  small,"  he  said.  "  I  am  only 
sorry  that  I  cannot  detail  a  fit  escort  for  you.  But  I  am 
charged  with  a  special  duty,  —  the  arrest  of  an  American 
freebooter  who  threatens  us  with  an  army  of  Kenny  —  Ken 
ny  —  tuckians.'  The  Americans  have  such  hard  names ! 
They  are  indeed  allies  of  the  savages.  But  I  will  order  four 
of  my  troopers  to  accompany  you  to  Nacogdoches,  and  the 
commandant  there  can  do  more  for  you." 

Nolan  and  Eunice  joined  in  begging  him  not  to  weaken 
his  force.  They  were  quite  sufficient  for  their  own  protec 
tion,  they  said.  The  servants  were  none  of  them  cowards 


$6  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

and  had  had  some  experience  with  their  weapons.  But  the 
captain  was  firm  in  his  Castilian  politeness  ;  and,  as  any  un 
due  firmness  on  their  part  in  rejecting  so  courteous  an  offer 
must  awaken  his  suspicions,  they  were  obliged  to  comply 
with  his  wish,  and  accept  the  inopportune  escort  which  he 
provided  for  them. 

Inez,  meanwhile,  wild  with  curiosity  and  excitement,  as  the 
colloquy  passed  through  its  different  stages  of  suspicion  and 
of  confidence,  had  not  dared  express  her  fear,  her  amusement, 
or  her  surprise,  even  by  a  glance.  She  saw  it  was  safest  for 
her  to  drop  her  veil,  and  to  sit  the  impassive  Castilian  maiden, 
fresh  from  a  nunnery,  which  Capt.  Morales  supposed  her  to  be. 

As  for  old  Ransom,  the  major-domo  of  Eunice's  establish 
ment,  he  sat  at  a  respectful  distance,  heeding  every  word  of 
the  conversation,  in  whatever  language  it  passed,  with  a  face 
as  free  from  expression  as  the  pine-knot  on  the  tree  next 
him.  Once  and  again  he  lifted  his  eyes  to  the  heavens  with 
that  wistful  look  of  his,  which  was  rather  the  glance  of  an 
astronomer  than  of  a  devotee.  But  the  general  aspect  of  the 
man  was  of  an  impatient  observer  of  events,  who  had  himself, 
Cassandra-like,  stated  in  advance  what  must  be  and  was  to 
be,  and  was  now  grieved  that  he  must  await  the  slow  pro 
cesses  of  meaner  intelligences. 

At  last  his  patience  was  relieved.  Capt.  Morales  drew 
from  his  haversack  a  slip  of  paper,  on  which  he  wrote :  — 

"  By  order  of  the  King : 

Know  all  men,  that  the  Lady  Eunice  and  Lady  Inez,  with  Mons.  Philippe, 
the  intendant  of  their  household,  with  one  Ransom  and  four  other  ser 
vants,  have  free 

Pass  and  Escort 

to  che  King's  loyal  city  of  San  Antonio 

Bexa  under  direction  of  the  military  commandant,  and  after  inspection 
by  me.  MORALES, 

Captain  of  Artillery. 
Long  live  the  King  I  " 

He  then  told  off  a  corporal  or  sergeant  with  three  troopers, 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  57 

and  bade  them,  nothing  loath,  accompany  the  Orleans  party 
to  Nacogdoches.  He  gave  his  hand  courteously  to  the  Senora 
Eunice  and  Mons.  Philippe,  touched  his  hat  as  courteously 
to  the  Senorita  Inez,  and  even  threw  his  party  into  military 
order  as  the  others  passed,  and  gave  them  a  military  salute 
as  his  last  farewell. 

"  Save  me  from  my  friends,"  said  Nolan,  as  he  joined  the 
Donna  Eunice  after  this  formality  was  over,  and  each  party 
was  out  of  sight  of  each  other.  "  Save  me  from  my  friends ! 
This  civility  of  your  friend  the  captain  is  more  inconvenient 
to  us  than  the  impudence  of  my  captain  on  the  prairie 
yonder." 

:t  I  see  it  is,"  said  Eunice  thoughtfully.  "  I  am  afraid  I 
have  done  wrong.  But  really,  Capt.  Nolan,  I  was  so  eager 
to  take  you  under  our  protection  —  I  knew  my  brother  would 
be  so  glad  to  serve  you  —  I  thought  the  governor  had  this 
very  purpose  in  his  mind  —  that  I  thought,  even  if  the  truth 
was  for  once  good  policy,  I  would  tell  him  the  truth  still." 

And  she  pretended  to  laugh,  but  she  almost  cried. 

"  Of  course  you  could  tell  him  nothing  else,"  said  he. 

"  Indeed  I  could  not.  Nobody  could  ask  me  actually  to 
betray  you  by  name  to  your  enemies." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  the  Kentuckian,  laughing  without  re 
serve.  "  If  indeed  they  are  my  enemies.  I  wish  I  could  tell 
them  at  sight.  If  they  would  show  their  colors  as  they  make 
us  show  ours,  it  would  be  well  and  good,"  he  added.  "  If, 
when  we  see  a  buckskin  rascal  with  the  King  of  Spain's 
cockade,  he  would  wear  a  feather  besides,  to  say  whether  he 
is  a  Texan  Spaniard  or  an  Orleans  Spaniard,  that  would  do. 
But  pray  do  not  be  anxious,  Miss  Eunice.  My  anxieties  are 
almost  over  now.  I  can  take  good  care  of  myself,  and  the 
King  of  Spain  seems  likely  to  take  care  of  you.  I  am  well 
disposed  to  believe  old  Ransom,  that  your  father  has  gone  to 
the  king  to  tell  him  all  about  it." 

Eunice  said  that  she  did  not  see  how  he  could  speak  so. 
How  could  he  bring  his  party  up  to  them,  if  there  were  these 
four  spies  hanging  on  all  the  way? 


58  PHILIP  NOLAN^S  FRIENDS; 

"  I  can  see,"  replied  Nolan,  laughing,  "  that  dear  Ransom 
would  like  nothing  better  than  to  blow  out  their  brains,  and 
throw  them  all  into  the  next  creek.  But  really  that  is  a  very 
ungracious  treatment  of  men  who  only  want  to  take  care  of 
fair  ladies.  We  must  not  be  jealous  of  their  attentions." 

Then  he  added  more  seriously,  — 

"  I  am  afraid  this  meeting  may  cut  off  from  me  the  pleasure 
of  many  such  rides  as  this ;  and,  believe  me,  I  have  looked 
forward  eagerly  to  more  of  them  than  was  reason.  As  soon 
as  these  fellows  will  spare  me,  I  must  ride  across  and  meet 
my  party,  and  warn  them  not  to  come  too  near  your  line  of 
travel.  But  I  can  put  another  '  intendant '  in  my  place,  and, 
if  need  be,  more  than  one ;  and  I  can  leave  you  the  satisfac 
tion,  if  it  is  any,  to  know  that  I  am  not  far  away." 

"  If  it  is  any !  What  would  my  brother  think,  if  he  did  not 
suppose  that  five  of  you  were  behind  Inez,  and  five  before, 
five  on  the  right  hand,  and  five  on  the  left  ?  Still  I  suppose 
we  are  perhaps  even  safer  now."  This  somewhat  anxiously. 

"  Dear  Miss  Eunice,  you  are  never  so  safe  in  this  world  as 
when  you  make  no  pretence  of  strength,  while  in  truth  you 
are  well  guarded.  When  I  am  weak,  then  I  am  strong." 
This  he  said  with  his  voice  dropping,  and  very  reverently. 
. "  If  this  is  true  in  the  greatest  tilings,  if  it  is  true  in  trials 
where  the  Devil  is  nearest,  all  the  more  is  it  true  in  the  wilder 
ness.  A  large  party,  with  the  fuss  of  its  encampment,  attracts 
every  Bedouin  savage  and  every  cut-throat  Greaser  within  a 
hundred  miles.  They  come  together  like  crows.  But  a  hand 
ful  of  people  like  yours  will  most  likely  ride  to  San  Antonio 
without  seeing  savage  or  Christian,  except  such  as  are  at  the 
fort  and  the  ferries.  Then,  the  moment  these  four  gentlemen 
are  tired  of  you,  I  shall  be  in  communication,  and  my  men 
in  buckram  will  appear." 

"  Men  in  buckram  !  that  is  too  bad,"  said  Inez,  who  had 
joined  their  colloquy.  "  Where  may  your  men  in  buckram 
be  just  now  ?  " 

"  They  are  a  good  deal  nearer  to  us  than  your  admirer, 


OR,   " SHOW  POUR  PASSPORTS."  59 

Capt.  Morales,  supposes.  But  he  is  riding  away  from  them 
as  fast  as  he  can  ride,  and  they  are  riding  away  from  him  at 
a  pace  more  moderate.  You  shall  see,  Miss  Inez,  when  the 
camping-time  comes,  whether  my  men  are  in  buckram,  in 
broadcloth,  or  in  satin." 

Sure  enough,  when  the  sun  was  within  an  hour  of  setting, 
as  that  peerless  October  day  went  by,  the  little  party,  passing 
out  from  a  tract  rather  more  thickly  wooded  than  usual,  came 
out  upon  a  lovely  glade,  where  the  solitude  was  broken.  Two 
tents  were  pitched,  and  on  one  of  them  a  little  blue  flag 
floated.  Three  or  four  men  in  leathern  hunting-shirts  were 
lying  on  the  ground,  but  sprang  to  their  feet  the  moment  the 
new  party  appeared. 

"  My  lady  is  at  home,"  said  Nolan,  resuming  the  mock  air 
of  formal  courtesy  with  which  he  and  Inez  so  often  amused 
themselves.  "  My  backwoodsmen  have  come  in  advance,  as 
Puss  in  Boots  did,  to  arrange  for  my  lady's  comfort." 

"  Are  these  your  men  ?  You  are  too  careful,  captain,  01 
too  careless,  I  do  not  know  which  to  say,  —  too  careful  for 
me,  and  too  careless  for  your  own  safety." 

"  That  for  my  safety,"  said  the  reckless  young  man,  snap 
ping  his  fingers.  "  If  your  ladyship  sleeps  well,  we  ask 
nothing  more.  To  say  true,  my  lady,  I  am  the  most  timid  of 
men  :  praise  me  for  my  prudence.  Were  I  not  caution  per 
sonified,  I  should  have  commanded  William  yonder  to  fly  the 
stars  and  stripes  over  your  majesty's  tent.  But  I  had  care 
for  your  majesty's  comfort.  I  knew  these  Greasers  would 
know  those  colors  too  well." 

"  And  he  has  !  and  he  has  !  Oh,  you  are  good,  Capt. 
Nolan  !  —  See,  aunty,  the  flag  that  flies  over  us  !  " 

There  is  many  a  girl  in  Massachusetts  who  reads  these 
words,  who  does  not  know  that  the  flag  of  her  own  State  dis 
plays  on  a  blue  field  a  shield  bearing  an  Indian  proper  and 
a  star  argent  —  which  means  an  Indian  painted  in  his  own 
manner  as  he  is,  and  a  star  of  silver.  But  in  those  days  each 
State  had  had  to  subsist  for  itself,  even  to  strike  its  own  coin, 


60  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

and  often  to  fight  under  its  own  flag ;  and  this  New  England 
girl,  who  had  never  seen  New  England,  knew  the  cognizance 
of  her  own  land  as  well  as  the  Lotties  and  Fannies  and 
Aggies  —  the  Massachusetts  girls  of  to-day  —  know  the  cog 
nizance  of  England  or  of  Austria. 

"Welcome  home,  ladies,"  said  the  tall,  handsome  young 
soldier,  who  took  Eunice's  horse  by  the  head,  while  Nolan 
lifted  her  from  the  saddle. 

"  This  is  the  ladies'  own  tent,  captain.  We  have  set  the 
table  in  the  other."  And  the  ladies  passed  in  at  the  tent- 
door  to  find  the  hammocks  swung  for  them,  two  camp-stools 
open,  a  little  table  cut  with  a  hatchet  from  the  bark  of  large 
pines,  and  covered  with  a  white  napkin,  on  which  stood 
ready  a  candlestick  and  a  tinder-box;  and  another  rough 
table  like  it,  with  a  tin  basin  full  of  water;  and  two  large 
gourds,  tightly  corked,  on  the  pine  carpet  at  its  side. 

"  We  are  in  a  palace,"  cried  Inez.  "  How  can  we  thank 
these  gentlemen  enough  for  their  care  ?  " 
.  "  I  must  tell  you  who  they  are.  —  Why,  William,  where 
have  the  others  gone  ?  —  Miss  Eunice,  Miss  Inez,  this  is  my 
other  self,  William  Harrod.  William,  you  knew  who  these 
ladies  were  long  before  you  saw  them.  Ladies,  if  I  told  you 
that  William  Harrod  was  Ephraim  Harrod's  brother,  it  would 
not  help  you.  If  I  said  he  was  the  best  marksman  in  the 
great  valley,  you  would  not  care.  When  I  say  he  is  the  best 
fellow  that  lives,  you  must  believe  me." 

"  Leave  them  to  find  that  out,  captain." 

"  The  captain  tells  enough  when  he  says  you  are  his  other 
self.  In  a  country  like  this,  one  is  glad  to  find  two  Philip 
Nolans." 

Old  Ransom  and  his  party,  meanwhile,  were  a  little  dis 
gusted  that  the  preparations  they  had  made  for  the  mistress's 
accommodation  on  her  first  night  away  from  the  river  should 
be  thus  put  in  the  shade  by  the  unexpected  encampment  on 
which  they  had  lighted.  Before  their  journey  was  finished, 
they  were  glad  enough  to  stumble  on  cattle-shed  or  abandoned 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  6l 

camp  which  might  save  them  from  the  routine  of  uncording 
and  cording  up  their  tents ;  but  to  be  anticipated  on  the  very 
first  night  of  camp-life  was  an  annoyance.  When,  however, 
Ransom  found  that  these  were  Capt  Nolan's  people,  and 
that  the  preparation  had  been  dictated  by  his  forethought, 
his  brow  cleared,  and  the  severe  animadversions  by  which  he 
had  at  first  condemned  every  arrangement  changed,  more 
suddenly  than  the  wind  changes,  into  expressions  of  approval 
as  absolute. 

While  the  ladies  were  preparing  for  the  supper,  Ransom 
amused  himself  with  the  Spanish  soldiers. 

One  of .  them  had  asked  what  the  flag  was  which  was  dis 
played  above  the  ladies'  tent. 

"  Ignorant  nigger !  "  said  Ransom  afterward,  as  he  detailed 
the  conversation  to  Miss  Eunice.  (The  man  was  no  more  a 
negro  than  Ransom  was;  but  it  was  his  habit  to  apply  this 
phrase  to  all  persons  of  a  Southern  race.)  "Ignorant  nigger! 
I  axed  him  ef  he  didn't  know  the  private  signal  uv  his  own 
king.  I  told  him  the  king  uv  Spain,  when  he  went  out  to 
ride  with  the  ladies  uv  the  court,  or  when  he  sot  at  dinner  in 
his  own  pallis,  had  that  'ere  Jlag  flyin'  over  his  throne.  I 
told  him  that  he  gin  your  brother  a  special  permit  to  use  it, 
wen  he  gin  him  the  star  of  San  lago  for  wot  he  did  in  the 
war  with  the  pirates." 

"  Ransom  !  how  could  you ! "  said  Eunice,  trying  to  look 
forbidding,  while  Inez  was  screaming  with  delight,  and  beck 
oning  to  her  new  friend,  Mr.  Harrod,  to  listen. 

"  Only  way  with  'em,  marm.  They  all  lies ;  and,  ef  you 
don't  lie  to  'em,  they  dunno  wot  you  mean.  Answer  a  fool 
accordin'  to  his  folly,  is  the  rule,  mum.  Heerd  it  wen  I  was 
a  boy.  Wen  I'm  in  Turkey,  I  do  as  the  turkeys  do,  marm  : 
they  ain't  no  other  way." 

Caesar  appeared,  grinning,  and  said  that  supper  was  ready. 
One  of  Harrod's  aids  stood  at  the  door  of  the  second  of  his 
tents,  saluted  as  his  officer  and  Nolan  led  the  ladies  in ;  and 
Csesar  and  Ransom  followed,  —  Caesar  to  wait  upon  the  hun- 


6*  PHILIP  NO  LAWS  FRIEXDS; 

gry  travellers,  and  Ransom  in  his  general  capacity  of  major 
domo,  or  critic-in-chief  of  all  that  was  passing. 

"  We  give  you  hunters'  fare,"  said  Nolan,  who  took  the 
place  and  bearing  of  the  host  at  the  entertainment ;  "  but 
you  have  earned  your  appetites." 

"  It  would  be  hard  if  two  poor  girls  could  not  be  sausfied 
with  roasted  turkey ;  with  venison,  if  that  be  venison  ;  with 
quails,  if  those  be  quails ;  and  with  rabbits,  if  those  be  rabbits, 
—  let  alone  the  grapes  and  melons.  You  must  have  thought 
we  had  the  appetite  of  the  giant  Blunderbore." 

"  I  judged  your  appetite  by  my  own,"  said  Nolan,  laughing. 
"  As  for  Harrod,  he  is  a  lady's  man :  he  has  no  appetite ;  but 
perhaps  he  will  pick  a  bone  of  the  m err)'- thought  of  this 
intimation  of  a  partridge ; "  and  he  laid  the  bone  on  the  plate 
of  his  laughing  friend. 

The  truth  was  that  the  feast  was  a  feast  for  kings.  It  was 
served  with  Caesar's  nicest  finish,  and  with  the  more  useful 
science  and  precision  of  the  hunters.  Ransom  had  made 
sure  that  a  little  travelling  table-service,  actually  of  silver, 
should  be  packed  for  the  ladies ;  and  in  this  forest  near  the 
Sabine,  under  their  canvas  roof,  they  ate  from  a  board  as 
elegantly  appointed  as  any  in  Orleans  or  in  Mexico,  partak 
ing  of  fare  more  dainty  than  either  city  could  command.  So 
much  for  ih  i  hardships  of  the  first  day  of  the  campaign. 


OR*  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  63 


CHAPTER  VI. 

GOOD-BY. 

"  The  rule  of  courtesy  is  thus  expressed  : 
Welcome  the  coming,  speed  the  parting  guest." 

MENELAUS  in  the  Odyssey 

"WHEN  hunger  now  and  thirst  were  fully  satisfied,"  Nolan 
called  Ransom  to  him,  and  asked  the  old  man  in  an  under 
tone  where  the  Spanish  soldiers  were. 

"  They's  off  by  they  own  fire.  Made  a  fire  for  theyselves. 
The  men  asked  'em  to  supper,  and  gin  'em  all  the  bacon  and 
whiskey  they'd  take.  Poor  devils !  don't  often  have  none. 
Now  they's  made  they  own  fire,  and  is  gamblin'  there." 

By  the  word  "gambling,"  Ransom  distinguished  every 
game  of  cards,  however  simple.  In  this  case,  however,  it  is 
probable  that  he  spoke  within  the  mark. 

"  Then  we  can  talk  aloud,"  said  Nolan.  "  A  tent  has  but 
one  fault,  —  that  you  are  never  by  yourself  in  it.  You  do 
not  know  what  redskin  or  panther  is  listening  to  you." 

Then  he  went  on :  — 

"William,  I  have  kept  myself  well  out  of  these  rascals' 
sight  all  the  afternoon.  I  have  not  looked  in  their  faces, 
and  they  have  not  looked  in  mine.  For  this  I  had  my  rea 
sons.  And  I  think,  and  I  believe  the  ladies  will  think,  that 
if  you  put  on  my  cap  and  this  hunting-shirt  to-morrow,  and 
permit  me  to  borrow  that  more  elegant  equipment  of  yours, 
—  if  you  will  even  take  to  yourself  the  name  and  elegant 
bearing  of  'Mons.  Philippe,'  supposed  chargt  d'affaires  of 


64  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

the  Consul  Bonaparte,  and  certainly  partner  of  Mr.  Silas 
Perry,  —  you  may  serve  the  ladies  as  well  as  at  the  Spanish 
guard-house  yonder ;  and  I  shall  serve  them  better  even  than 
you,  in  returning  for  a  day  or  two  to  our  friends  in  buck 
ram." 

The  ladies  asked  with  some  eagerness  the  reasons  for 
such  a  change  ;  but  in  a  moment  they  were  satisfied  that 
Nolan  was  in  the  right.  Any  stray  officer  at  the  fort  might 
recognize  him,  well  known  as  he  was  all  along  the  frontier, 
and  on  both  sides  of  it ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  his  own 
direction  to  his  own  parry  was,  of  course,  the  most  valuable 
to  all  concerned.  There  was  some  laugh  at  the  expense  of 
the  forest  gear  which  was  to  be  changed.  The  fringes  to  the 
hunting-shirts  were  of  different  dyes  ;  one  hat  bore  a  rabbit's 
tail,  and  one  the  feather  of  a  cardinal :  but,  for  the  two  men, 
they  were  within  a  pound  of  the  same  weight,  and  a  hair 
breadth  of  the  same  size,  as  Harrod  said,  and  he  said  it 
proudly. 

"My  other  self,  I  told  you,"  said  Nolan;  and  then  he 
assumed  the  mock  protector,  and  charged  the  ladies  that 
they  must  go  to  bed  for  an  early  start  in  the  morning. 

At  sunrise,  accordingly,  the  pretty  little  camp  was  on  the 
alert.  All  the  tents,  except  those  of  the  ladies,  were  struck 
before  they  were  themselves  awake.  Their  toilet  was  not 
long,  though  it  was  elaborate  ;  and  when  Inez  stepped  out 
from  her  sleeping-apartment,  and  looked  in  to  see  the  prog 
ress  breakfast  had  made,  she  was  provoked  with  herself  that 
she  was  the  first  person  deceived  by  the  new-made  Dromio. 

She  slyly  approached  Mr.  Harrod,  who  stood  at  the  table 
.with  his  back  to  her,  tapped  him  smartly  on  the  shoulder, 
and  said,  — 

"  Philopcena !  Capt.  Nolan,  my  memory  is  better  than 
you  think  " —  to  have  the  handsome  "  other  self  "  turn  round, 
and  confuse  her  with  his  good-natured  welcome. 

"  Philopcena !  indeed,  Miss  Perry,  but  it  was  not  I  who  ate 
the  almond  with  you." 


OR,   "SHOW   YOUR  PASSPORTS:''  65 

"  To  think  it,"  said  the  girl,  "  that  a  bird's  feather  and  a 
strip  of  purple  leather  should  change  one  man  into  another  I 
Well,  I  thought  I  was  a  better  scout.  Do  you  know  I  en 
listed  among  Capt.  Nolan's  rifles  yesterday?  If  only  my 
well-beloved  sovereign  would  make  war  with  you  freemen,  he 
would  not  find  me  among  his  guards." 

The  girl's  whole  figure  was  alive ;  and  Harrod  understood 
at  once  that  she  did  not  dislike  the  half-equivocal  circum 
stances  in  which  they  stood,  —  of  measuring  strength  and 
wit  against  the  officers  of  the  Spanish  king. 

Breakfast  was  as  elegant  and  dainty  as  supper ;  but  the 
impetuous  and  almost  imperious  Inez  could  not  bear  that 
they  should  sit  so  long.  For  herself,  she  could  and  would 
take  but  one  cup  of  coffee.  How  people  could  sit  so  over 
their  coffee,  she  could  not  see !  "  Another  slice  from  the 
turkey  ? "  No  !  Had  she  not  eaten  corn-cake  and  venison, 
and  grapes  and  fricasseed  rabbit,  all  because  Ransom  had 
cooked  or  gathered  them  himself  for  her  ?  Would  dear  Aunt 
Eunice  never  be  done  ? 

Dear  Aunt  Eunice  only  laughed,  and  waited  for  her  second 
cup  to  cool,  and  sipped  it  by  teaspoonfuls,  and  folded  her 
napkin  as  leisurely  as  if  she  had  been  on  the  plantation,  and 
as  if  none  of  them  had  any  thing  to  do  but  to  look  at  their 
watches  till  the  hour  for  lunch-time  came. 

"  Miss  i"erry,"  said  Harrod  to  her,  "  I  believe  you  are  a 
soldier's  daughter? " 

"  Indeed  I  am/'  said  Eunice  heartily,  and  then,  with  a 
laugh,  '•'  and  a  rifleman's  aunt,  I  understand,  or  a  rifle- 
woman's." 

"  Any  way,  your  dear  old  plague,  you  have  at  last  drunk 
the  last  drop  even  you  can  pretend  you  want,  and  I  do  be 
lieve  you  have  given  the  last  fold  to  that  napkin. — Gentle 
men,  shall  we  not  find  it  pleasanter  in  the  air  ?  " 

And  she  dropped  a  mock  courtesy  to  them,  sprang  out  of 
the  tent  singing,  — 

"  Hark,  hark,  tantivy  :  to  horse,  my  brave  boys,  and  away  ! " 


66  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

And  away  they  went.  The  same  delicious  fragrance  cxT  the 
pines ;  the  exquisite  freshness  of  morning ;  the  song  of  birds 
not  used  to  travellers  ;  the  glimpses  now  and  then  of  beasts 
four-footed,  who  were  scarcely  afraid  !  Every  thing  combined 
to  inspirit  the  young  people,  and  to  make  Inez  rate  at  its 
very  lowest  the  danger  and  the  fatigue  of  the  expedition. 

Until  they  should  come  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  Spanish 
post  at  San  Augustine,  the  two  united  parties  were  to  remain 
together.  To  the  escort  provided  by  the  eagerness  or  sus 
picion  of  Capt.  Morales,  the  rencontre  of  the  night  before 
was  only  the  ordinary  incident  of  travel,  in  which  two  parties 
of  friends  had  met  each  other,  and  encamped  together. 
That  they  should  make  one  body  as  they  went  on  the  next 
day,  was  simply  a  matter  of  course.  Nolan,  therefore,  had  the 
pleasure  of  one  day's  more  travel  with  his  friends  ;  and,  if  the 
ladies  had  had  any  sense  of  insecurity,  they  would  have  had 
the  relief  of  his  presence  and  that  of  his  backwoodsmen. 
But  at  this  period  they  had  no  such  anxiety  except  for  him. 

With  laugh  and  talk  and  song  of  the  four,  therefore,  varied 
by  more  serious  colloquy  as  they  fell  into  couples,  two  and 
two,  the  morning  passed  by ;  and  Inez  and  Eunice  were  both 
surprised  when  the  experienced  backwoodsmen  ordered  the 
halt  for  lunch.  They  could  not  believe  that  they  had  taken 
half  the  journey  for  the  day.  But  the  order  was  given ;  the 
beasts  were  relieved  of  their  packs  ;  a  shaded  and  sheltered 
spot  was  chosen  for  the  ladies'  picnic  ;  and  to  Ransom  was 
given  this  time  all  the  responsibility  and  all  the  glory  of  their 
meal. 

It  was  hardly  begun,  when,  from  the  turn  which  screened 
the  trail  on  the  west,  there  appeared  an  Indian  on  horseback  ; 
and,  as  Nolan  sprang  to  his  feet  to  welcome  him,  the  rest  of  a 
•considerable  party  of  Indians,  men  and  women  and  children, 
with  all  the  paraphernalia  of  an  encampment,  appeared. 

The  leading  man,  whose  equipment  and  manner  showed, 
that,  so  far  as  any  one  ranked  as  chief  of  the  little  tribe,  he 
assumed  that  honor,  came  readily  forward  ;  and,  after  a  min 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  67 

ute's  survey,  at  Nolan's  invitation  he  dismounted,  and  did 
due  honor  to  a  draught  of  raw  West  Indian  rum  which  Nolan 
offered  him  in  one  of  the  silver  cups  which  he  took  from  the 
table.  But,  when  Nolan  addressed  him  in  some  gibberish 
which  he  said  the  Caddoes  would  understand,  the  chief  inti 
mated  that  he  did  not  know  what  he  meant.  He  did  this  by 
holding  his  hand  before  his  face  with  the  palm  outward,  and 
shaking  it  to  and  fro. 

Nolan  was  a  connoisseur  in  Indian  dialects,  and  tried  suc 
cessively  three  or  four  different  jargons  ;  but  the  chief  made 
the  sign  of  dissent  to  each,  and  intimated  that  he  was  a 
Lipan.  Nolan  had  tried  him  in  the  dialects  of  the  Adeyes, 
the  Natchez,  and  the  Caddoes,  with  which  he  himself  was 
sufficiently  familiar. 

"  Lipan  !  "  he  said  aloud  to  his  friends.  "What  devil  has 
sent  the  Lipans  so  far  out  of  their  way  ? " 

With  the  other,  he  dropped  the  effort  to. speak  in  articulate 
language,  and  fell  into  a  graceful  and  rapid  pantomime,  which 
the  chief  immediately  understood,  which  Harrod  followed 
with  interest,  and  sometimes  joined  in,  and  in  which  two  or 
three  other  lesser  chiefs,  still  sitting  on  their  horses,  took 
their  part  as  well. 

Nothing  could  be  more  curious  than  this  silent,  rapid,  and 
animated  colloquy.  Inez  and  Eunice  looked  from  face  to 
face,  wholly  unable  to  follow  the  play  of  the  conversation, 
but  certain  that  to  all  the  interlocutors  it  was  entirely  intelli 
gible.  To  all  the  tribes  west  of  the  river,  indeed,  there  was 
this  common  language  of  pantomime,  intelligible  to  all, 
though  their  dialects  were  of  wholly  distinct  families  of  lan 
guage.  It  still  subsists  among  the  southern  Indians  of  the 
plains,  and  is  perhaps  intelligible  to  all  the  tribes  on  this 
side  the  Rocky  Mountains.1 

1  The  fullest  account  of  this  language  of  pantomime  is  probably  from  Philip 
Nolan's  own  pen.  It  is  preserved  in  the  Sixth  Volume  of  the  Transactions  of  the 
American  Philosophical  Society,  and  is  the  most  considerable  literary  work  known 
to  me  by  this  accomplished  young  man. 


68  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FKIh.  NDS ; 

Hands,  arms,  and  fingers  were  kept  in  rapid  movement  as 
the  colloquy  went  on.  The  men  bent  forward  and  back,  from 
right  to  left,  now  used  the  right  arm,  now  the  left,  seemed  to 
describe  figures  in  the  air,  or  tapped  with  one  hand  upon  the 
other.  An  open  hand  seemed  to  mean  one  thing,  a  closed 
hand  another.  The  forefinger  was  pointed  to  one  eye,  or  to 
the  forehead,  or  to  the  ear,  now  to  the  sun,  now  to  the  earth. 
All  the  fingers  of  one  hand  would  be  set  in  rapid  motion, 
while  the  other  hand  indicated,  as  occasion  might  require, 
the  earth,  the  sky,  a  lake  or  a  river. 

The  whole  group  of  whites  and  negroes  on  the  one  hand, 
and  of  "redskins"  on  the  other,  joined  in  a  circle  about  the 
five  principal  conversers.  Harrod's  party  had  some  slight 
understanding  of  the  language,  and  occasionally  gave  some 
slight  interpretation  to  their  companions  as  to  what  was 
going  on.  All  the  Indians  understood  it  in  full,  and,  by 
grunts  and  sighs,  expressed  their  concurrence  in  the  senti 
ments  of  their  leaders. 

The  interest  reached  its  height,  when  Nolan  took  the  right 
hand  of  the  savage  chief,  passed  it  under  his  hunting-shirt 
and  the  flannel  beneath  it,  so  that  it  rested  on  the  naked 
heart.  Both  smiled  as  if  with  pleasure  ;  and  after  an  instant, 
by  a  reversal  of  the  manoeuvre,  Nolan  placed  his  hand  on  the 
heart  of  the  Indian.  Here  was  an  indication,  from  each  to 
the  other,  that  each  heart  beat  true. 

After  this  ceremony,  Nolan  called  one  of  the  scouts  from 
Harrod's  party,  and  bade  him  bring  a  jug  from  their  own 
stores.  Then  turning  to  Eunice  he  said,  — 

"Pray  let  all  the  redskin  chiefs  drink  from  your  silver. 
I  had  a  meaning  in  using  this  cup  when  I  '  treated  '  Long- 
Tail  here.  And  now  none  of  them  must  feel  that  we  hold 
ourselves  above  them.  Perhaps  they  do  not  know  that  silver 
rates  higher  than  horn  in  the  white  men's  calendar,  but  per 
haps  they  do." 

Eunice  had  caught  the  idea  already.  She  had  placed  five 
silver  cups  on  a  silver  salver,  and  so  soon  as  the  liquor  ar- 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  69 

rived  gave  them  to  the  scout  to  fill.  The  chiefs,  if  they  were 
chiefs,  grunted  their  satisfaction.  Nolan  then,  with  a  very 
royal  air,  passed  down  their  whole  line,  and  gave  to  each  a 
bright  red  ribbon.  It  was  clear  enough  that  most  of  them 
had  never  seen  such  finery.  The  distribution  of  it  was  wel 
comed  much  as  it  would  have  been  by  children  ;  and  after  a 
general  grunt,  expressive  of  their  satisfaction,  the  chief  re 
sumed  his  seat  on  horseback,  and  the  party  took  up  its  line 
of  march  again. 

"  I  asked  them  where  they  were  going,  and  they  lied ;  I 
asked  them  where  they  came  from,  and  they  lied,"  said  Nolan 
a  little  anxiously,  as  he  resumed  his  own  place  by  the  out 
spread  blanket,  which  was  serving  for  a  tablecloth  on  the 
ground. 

"  They  are  hunting  Panis,"  said  Harrod ;  "  and  they  did  not 
want  to  say  so,  because  they  supposed  we  were  Spaniards. 
But  I  never  knew  Lipans  so  far  down  on  this  trail  before." 

"  No,"  said  Nolan :  "  I  have  never  met  Lipans  but  once  or 
twice, — you  know  when." 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  show  them  what  was  in  your 
heart." 

Nolan  laughed,  and  turned  to  the  ladies. 

"  You  would  like  to  know  what  is  in  my  heart,  Miss  Inez, 
would  you  not  ?  How  gladly  would  I  know  what  is  in  yours ! 
To  say  truth,  like  most  of  us,  I  was  not  quite  ready  for  the 
exposure ;  and  perhaps  these  rascals  knew  a  little  more  than 
is  best  for  them.  'A  little  knowledge  is  a  dangerous  thing.'" 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ? "  said  Inez.  "  I  hate  rid 
dles,  unless  I  can  guess  them." 

Nolan  produced  from  a  secret  fold  in  his  pouch  a  little 
convex  mirror,  highly  polished,  with  long  cords  attached  to  it. 

"  The  memory  of  man  does  not  tell  how  long  ago  it  was 
that  one  of  the  French  chiefs  tied  such  a  mirror  as  this  on 
his  heart.  Then,  in  a  palaver  with  a  redskin,  monsieur  said 
he  'vould  show  him  what  was  in  his  heart,  stripped  his  breast 
bade  '  Screaming  Eagle '  look,  and,  lo  !  '  Screaming  Eagle 


JO  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

himself  was  there.  The  '  One-Horned  Buffalo  '  looked,  and 
lo  !  '  One-Horned  Buffalo'  was  there." 

"  Lucky  they  knew  themselves  by  sight,"  said  Eunice. 

"  I  have  often  thought  of  that.  They  would  not  have 
known  their  own  eyes  and  nose  and  mouth.  But  they  did 
know  their  feathers,  their  war-paint,  and  the  rest ;  and  from 
that  moment  he  enjoyed  immense  renown  with  them. 

"  Nor  do  I  count  it  a  lie,"  said  Nolan,  after  a  pause. 
"  What  is  all  language  but  signs,  just  such  as  we  have  all 
been  using  ?  Here  was  a  sign  carefully  wrought  out,  like  the 
'  totem,'  or  star  of  the  '  Golden  Fleece,'  which,  according  to 
Ransom,  the  king  will  give  to  your  father,  Miss  Inez." 

"  I  am  sure  I  have  them  all  in  my  heart.  I  am  very  fond 
of  them,  and  I  wish  them  well  so  long  as  they  are  not  scalp 
ing  me ;  and,  when  I  am  far  enough  from  trading-houses,  I 
do  not  scruple  to  use  the  glass  on  my  heart,  as  the  best 
symbol  by  which  I  can  say  so," 

As  they  resumed  the  saddle,  Inez  begged  her  friends  to 
tell  her  more  of  this  beautiful  language  of  signs. 

"  It  is  twenty  times  as  graceful  as  the  pantomime  of  the 
ballet  troupe,"  said  she. 

"  They  all  understand  it,"  said  Nolan,  "  at  least  as  far  as  I 
have  ever  gone.  Harrod  will  tell  you  how  it  served  us  once 
on  the  Neches." 

"  It  is  quickly  learned,"  said  Harrod,  not  entering  on  the 
anecdote.  "  Indeed,  it  is  simple,  as  these  people  are.  See 
here,"  said  he  eagerly :  "  this  is  Water." 

And  he  dropped  his  rein,  brought  both  his  hands  into  the 
shape  of  a  bowl,  and  lifted  them  to  his  mouth,  without,  how 
ever,  touching  it. 

"  Now,  this  is  Rain"  he  added ;  and  he  repeated  the  same 
sign,  lifting  his  hands  a  little  higher,  and  then  suddenly 
turned  his  ringers  outward,  and  shook  them  rapidly  to  repre 
sent  the  falling  of  water. 

"  Snow  is  the  same  thing,"  he  said,  "  only  I  must  end  with 
white.  This  is  white;"  and  with  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand 


OR,   "SHUW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  71 

he  rubbed  on  that  part  of  the  palm  of  the  left  which  unites 
the  thumb  with  the  fingers. 

"  Why  is  that  white  ?  "  said  Inez,  repeating  the  movement. 

"  Look  in  old  Caesar's  hand,  and  you  will  see,"  said 
Harrod. 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  see ;  how  bright  it  all  is !  But,  Mr.  Harrod, 
how  do  you  say  go,  and  come  1  where  do  the  verbs  come  in  ?  " 

"  This  is  go"  said  he ;  and  he  stretched  his  right  hand  out 
slowly,  with  the  back  upward.  "  Here  is  come; "  and  he 
moved  his  right  finger  from  right  to  left,  with  a  staccato  move 
ment,  in  which  the  ladies  instantly  recognized  the  steps  of  a 
man  walking. 

Harrod  was  perhaps  hardly  such  a  proficient  in  this  pan 
tomime  as  was  Nolan,  to  whom  he  often  turned  when  Inez 
asked  for  some  phrase  more  abstract  than  was  the  common 
habit  of  the  "  bread-and-butter "  talk  of  the  frontier.  But 
the  two  gentlemen  together  were  more  than  competent  to 
interpret  to  her  whatever  she  asked  for ;  and,  when  at  last 
she  began  a  game  of  whispering  to  Nolan  what  he  should 
repeat  to  Harrod,  the  precision  and  fulness  of  the  interpre 
tation  were  as  surprising  as  amusing. 

"  But  you  have  not  told  us,"  said  Eunice  in  the  midst  of 
this,  "  what  you  said  to  the  Learned  Buffalo,  if  that  was  his 
name,  and  what  he  said  to  you,  in  all  your  genuflexions  and 
posturings." 

"  Oh !  I  told  you  what  they  said,  or  that  it  was  mostly  lies. 
They  said  they  had  lost  some  horses,  and  had  come  all  this 
way  to  look  for  them.  That  is  what  an  Indian  always  tells 
you  when  he  is  on  some  enterprise  he  wants  to  conceal.  lie 
said  it  was  fourteen  days  since  he  had  seen  any  of  his  white 
bretnren.  That  was  a  lie.  He  stopped  at  Augustine  last 
night,  and  stole  that  cow-bell  that  was  on  the  black  mule. 
He  said  his  people  had  been  fighting  with  the  Comanches, 
and  took  thirty-two  scalps.  That  was  a  lie.  I  heard  all 
about  it  from  a  Caddo  chief  last  week.  The  Comanches 
whipped  them,  and  they  were  glad  to  get  away  with  the  scalps 
they  wore." 


ya  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"  The  language  of  pantomime  seems  made  to  conceal 
thought,"  said  Inez. 

"  Oh  !  he  tells  some  truth.  He  says  the  Spaniards  have  a 
new  company  of  artillery  at  San  Antonio.  He  says  your 
aunt  was  out  riding  on  the  first  day  of  October :  you  can  ask 
her  if  that  was  true,  when  you  see  her.  He  says  she  had 
with  h^r  a  calash  with  two  wheels,  in  which  sat  a  black  woman 
who  held  a  baby  with  a  blue  ribbon.  I  ought  to  have  told 
you  this  first  of  all  ;  but  this  galimatias  of  his  about  the 
Comanches  put  it  out  of  my  head." 

Inex  turned  to  him  almost  sadly. 

"  Capt.  Nolan,  how  can  you  tell  me  this  nonsense  ?  Fun 
is  well  enough,  but  you  were  so  serious  that  you  really  cheated 
me.  I  do  not  like  it.  I  do  not  think  you  are  fair."  And  in 
an  instant  more  the  girl  would  be  shedding  tears. 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  Miss  Inez  !  "  cried  the  good  fellow,  "  1 
know  when  to  fool,  and  when  not.  I  have  told  you  nothing 
but  what  the  man  said  to  me.  Blackburn !  "  and  he  beckoned 
to  one  of  the  mounted  men  who  had  accompanied  Harrod, 
"  you  saw  this  redskin,  you  know  his  signs.  Miss  Perry 
thinks  I  must  have  mistaken  his  news  from  San  Antonio." 

The  man  was  a  rough  fellow  in  his  dress,  but  his  manner 
was  courteous,  with  the  courtesy  of  the  frontier.  "  He  said, 
miss,  that  they  left  San  Antonio  when  the  moon  had  passed 
its  third  quarter  three  days.  He  said  that,  the  day  before  he 
came  away,  a  new  company  came  up  from  below,  with  big 
guns, — guns  on  carts,  he  called  them,  miss.  He  said  that 
same  afternoon,  the  officer  in  command  rode  out  horseback, 
mum,  and  a  lady  with  him ;  and  that  a  cart  with  a  kiver  over 
it  went  behind,  with  a  black  hoss,  miss.  He  said  there  was 
a  nigger-woman  in  the  kivered  cart,  an'  she  had  a  white  baby, 
'n  the  baby  had  a  blue  ribbon  round  her  head.  I  believe  that 
was  all." 

The  man  fell  back,  as  he  saw  he  was  no  longer  wanted ;  and 
Inez  gave  her  hand  very  prettily  and  frankly  to  Nolan,  and 
said,  — 


OX,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  73 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  captain :  I  was  very  unjust  to  you. 
But  this  seemed  impossible." 

Harrod  was  greatly  pleased  with  this  passage,  in  its  quiet 
testimony  to  his  leader's  accomplishment,  though  it  was  an 
accomplishment  so  far  out  of  the  common  course.  Nolan 
had  not  referred  to  him  because  he  had  heard  the  interpre 
tation  which  Inez  had  challenged.  The  talk  went  on  enthu 
siastically  about  the  pantomime  language  ;  and  the  young  men 
vied  with  each  other  in  training  the  ladies  to  its  manipulations, 
so  far  as  these  were  possible  to  people  pinioned  in  their  sad 
dles. 

"  You  can  say  any  thing  in  it,"  cried  Inez. 

"  I  don't  see  that,"  said  Eunice.  "  You  can  say  any  thing 
a  savage  wants  to  say." 

"  You  cannot  say  the  Declaration  of  Independence,"  said 
1  larrod. 

"  Nor  the  Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard,"  said  Nolan. 

And  so  the  day  wore  pleasantly  by,  till,  as  they  came  to 
the  ferry  where  they  were  to  cross  the  Sabine,  Nolan  con 
fessed  he  had  kept  in  company  to  the  last  moment  possible, 
and  bade  them,  "  for  a  few  days  at  most,"  he  said,  farewell. 

He  left,  as  an  escort,  Harrod  and  the  three  scouts  who  had 
joined  with  him.  Harrod  was  willing  to  appear  as  Mons. 
Philippe,  and  the  others  were  to  meet  the  Spanish  challenge 
as  best  they  could.  It  might  be,  Nolan  said,  that  he  should 
have  joined  again  before  they  had  to  pass  inspection  once 
more. 


74  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS: 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   SAN   ANTONIO   ROAD. 

"  I  called  to  the  maid : 
I  whispered  and  said, 

'  My  pretty  girl,  tell  to  me, 
The  man  on  the  sly 
Who  kissed  you  good-by,  — 

Is  he  Frenchman,  or  Portugee? '  " 

Tom  Tatnairs  Courtsfof 

AND  so  Philip  Nolan  bade  his  friends  good-by  for  a  day  or 
two  as  they  all  supposed,  but,  as  it  proved,  for  a  longer  part 
ing. 

The  escort  of  a  squad  of  Spanish  cavalry,  unexpec/ed  and 
unsatisfactory  as  it  was,  removed  the  immediate  or  actual 
necessity  for  the  presence  of  his  troop  with  the  little  party 
of  Eunice's  retainers.  None  the  less  did  he  assure  her  that 
he  should  rejoin  the  party  with  his  larger  force,  though  he 
did  think  it  advisable  to  keep  these  out  of  the  sight  of  the 
officers  at  the  Spanish  outposts.  The  outposts  once  passed, 
he  and  his  would  journey  in  one  part  of  the  province  as 
easily  as  in  another. 

To  a  reader  in  our  time,  it  is  difficul*  indeed  to  under 
stand  why  all  this  machinery  of  passpo  ,  should  be  main 
tained,  or  why  Nolan  should  have  had  a.iy  anxiety  about  his 
welcome.  Such  a  reader  must  learn,  and  must  remember, 
therefore,  that,  under  the  old  colonial  system  of  Spain,  the 
crown  held  its  colonies  in  the  state  of  separation  which  we 
speak  of  sometimes  as  Japanese  or  Paraguayan,  though  it 


OK,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  75 

be  now  abandoned  in  both  Japan  and  Paraguay.  On  the 
theory  that  it  was  well  to  maintain  colonies  for  the  benefit  of 
what  was  called  the  metropolis,  that  is,  the  European  state, 
the  people  of  the  Spanish  colonies  were  sternly  forbidden  to 
manufacture  any  article  which  could  be  supplied  from  home. 
With  the  same  view,  all  trade  between  them  and  other  na 
tions  than  the  metropolis  was  absolutely  forbidden ;  and,  to 
prevent  trade,  all  communication  was  forbidden  excepting 
at  certain  specified  ports  of  entry,  and  with  certain  formal 
passes.  At  the  time  with  which  we  have  to  do,  the  people  of 
Mexico,  and  therefore  the  few  scattered  inhabitants  of  this 
region  which  we  now  call  Texas,  a  part  of  Mexico,  were  not 
permitted  to  cultivate  flax,  hemp,  saffron,  the  olive,  the  vine, 
nor  the  mulberry ;  and  any  communication  between  them  and 
the  French  colony  of  Louisiana,  to  the  east  of  them,  had 
been  strictly  forbidden.  What  the  line  between  Mexico  and 
Louisiana  was,  no  man  could  certainly  say ;  but  it  was  cer 
tain  Natchitoches  in  Louisiana  had  been  a  French  outpost, 
while  Nacogdoches  in  Texas,  and  San  Antonio,  were  Mexican 
outposts.  The  territory  between  the  Rio  Grande  and  the 
Red  River  had  always  been  claimed,  with  more  or  less  tena 
city,  by  both  crowns. 

That  there  should  be  animosity  between  Mexico  and  Loui 
siana  while  one  was  French  and  one  was  Spanish,  was  natural 
enough,  even  if  the  crowns  of  France  and  Spain  were  united 
in  a  family  alliance.  It  is  not  so  easy  to  see  why  this  ani 
mosity  did  not  vanish  when  Louisiana  became  a  Spanish 
province,  as  it  was  in  this  year  1800,  in  which  we  are  tracing 
along  our  party  of  travellers.  And  it  is  certainly  true  that  a 
guarded  trade  was  springing  up  between  Orleans  and  Natchi 
toches  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Mexican  province  on  the 
other ;  but  it  is  as  sure  that  this  trade  was  watched  with  the 
utmost  suspicion. 

For  it  involved  the  danger,  as  the  Mexican  authorities  saw 
of  a  violation  of  their  fundamental  principle  of  isolation. 
They  doubtless  feared  that  the  silver  from  their  northern 


76  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

mines  might  be  a  tempting  bait  to  the  \\ild  Anglo-Americans 
of  the  Mississippi,  of  whose  prowess  they  heard  tales  which 
would  quite  confirm  the  boast  that  their  adventurers  were  half 
horse  and  half  alligator.  Trade  with  the  civilized  French 
men,  who  had  a  few  weak  posts  on  the  Mississippi,  might  be 
tolerable,  now  that  their  colonists  were  under  the  flag  of 
Spain;  but  who  and  what  were  these  sons  of  Anak,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Mississippi  River,  who  carried  a  starry  flag 
of  their  own  ? 

It  must  be  remembered  also,  that,  from  the  moment  that 
the  independence  of  the  United  States  was  secure,  the  new 
settlers  of  the  West  had  determined  that  they  would  have  a 
free  navigation  to  the  sea,  Spain  or  no  Spain.  They  had 
made  many  different  plans  for  this,  none  of  them  very  secret. 
There  were  those  who  hoped  that  Louisiana  might  become 
French  again,  and  were  willing  to  annex  Kentucky  to  Louisi- " 
ana  as  a  French  province.  There  were  agents  down  from 
the  Canadian  Government,  intimating  that  King  George  could 
get  command  of  a  route  through  to  the  sea,  and  would  not 
the  people  of  Kentucky  and  Tennessee  like  to  join  him  ? 
There  were  simple  people  who  did  not  care  what  stood  in  the 
way,  but  were  ready  to  march  in  their  might,  and  sweep  out 
of  the  valley  anybody  who  hindered  the  Kentucky  tobacco 
from  finding  its  way  to  the  markets  of  Europe.  None  of 
these  plans  regarded  the  King  of  Spain,  or  his  hold  of  the 
mouth  of  the  Mississippi  River,  with  any  reverence  or  favor. 

Philip  Nolan,  however,  had  made  his  earlier  expeditions 
into  Texas  with  the  full  assent  and  approval  of  the  Spanish 
governors  of  Louisiana.  When  he  came  back,  as  has  been 
said,  he  gave  the  governor  some  handsome  horses  from  the 
wild  drove  which  he  had  collected ;  he  received  the  gover 
nor's  thanks,  and  had  no  difficulty  in  getting  leave  to  go 
again.  And  if  Philip  Nolan's  name  had  been  Sancho  Panza 
or  lago  del  Toboso,  and  if  his  birthplace  had  been  in  Anda 
lusia  or  Leon,  he  might  perhaps  have  gone  back  and  forth, 
with  horses  or  without  them,  for  fifty  years ;  and  this  little 
history  would  then  certainly  never  have  been  written. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  77 

But  his  name  was  not  Sancho  Panza  ;  it  was  Philip  Nolan  : 
and  his  companions  were  not  Mexican  cattle-drivers,  nor 
even  young  hidalgos  hanging  about  town  in  Orleans.  There 
were  a  few  young  Kentuckians  like  Harrod  and  himself; 
there  were  Americans  from  a  dozen  different  States ;  and 
there  were  but  six  Spaniards  in  his  whole  party. 

He  seems  to  have  regarded  it  as  a  matter  of  indifference 
where  this  party  made  its  rendezvous.  As  he  had  the  per 
mission  of  the  Spanish  governor  to  trade,  it  certainly  should 
have  made  no  difference.  But,  in  fact,  his  men  made  their 
rendezvous  and  were  recruited  at  Natchez,  within  the  United 
States  territory,  —  a  town  of  which  the  Spaniards  had  but 
lately  given  up  the  possession  to  the  American  authorities, 
and  that  only  after  much  angry  talk,  and  in  very  bad  blood. 
That  a  party  of  twenty-one  young  adventurers,  under  the 
lead  of  an  American  as  popular  and  distinguished  as  Philip 
Nolan,  should  cross  west  into  Mexico  from  Natchez,  —  this 
was,  it  may  be  supposed,  what  excited  the  jealousy  of  the 
military  officers  in  command  in  Northern  Mexico.  The  local 
jealousy  between  them  and  the  officials  of  their  own  king  in 
Orleans  came  in  also  to  help  the  prejudice  with  which  the 
young  American  was  regarded. 

Nolan  rode  awuy  with  one  of  the  men  in  buckskin  who 
had  joined  with  Harrod,  throwing  a  kiss  to  Inez  with  that 
mixture  of  mock  gallantry  and  real  feeling  which  might  have 
been  traced  in  all  their  intercourse  with  each  other.  "Au 
revoir"  crie  J  she  to  him  ;  and  he  answered,  "  Au  revoir" 
and  was  gone. 

"We  shall  miss  him  sadly,"  said  Eunice,  after  a  moment's 
silence ;  "  and  I  cannot  bear  to  have  him  speak  with  anxiety 
of  his  expedition.  He  has  staked  too  much  in  it  to  be  dis 
appointed." 

The  travellers  followed  on  their  whole  route  what  was  even 
then  known  as  the  Old  San  Antonio  Road,  —  a  road  which 
followed  the  trail  made  by  the  first  adventurers  as  early  as 
1715.  It  was  not  and  is  not,  by  any  means,  as  straight  as 


78  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS', 

the  track  of  a  bee  or  a  carrier-pigeon ;  and  it  was  after  they 
had  had  the  experience  of  four  nights  under  canvas  that  they 
approached  the  Spanish  post  of  Nacogdoches. 

The  conversation  had  again  fallen  on  the  probable  danger 
or  safety  of  Nolan's  party. 

William  Harrod  said  what  was  quite  true,  —  that  Nolan 
would  never  be  anxious  for  a  moment  about  his  own  risks  ; 
but  he  was  too  loyal  to  these  young  men  who  had  enlisted 
with  him,  to  lead  them  into  danger  of  which  he  had  not 
given  warning. 

"  For  himself  he  has  no  fear,"  said  Inez. 

"  Nor  ever  had,"  was  Harrod's  reply.  "  Why,  Miss  Inez, 
I  was  with  him  once  when  a  party  of  Apaches  ought  to  have 
frightened  us  out  of  our  wits,  if  we  had  had  any.  I  dare 
not  tell  you  how  many  there  were,  but  the  boys  said  there 
were  five  hundred ;  and,  if  they  had  said  five  thousand,  I 
would  not  have  contradicted  them  ;  and  we  poor  white-skins, 
we  were  but  fourteen  all  told.  And  there  was  Master  Nolan 
as  cool  as  a  winter  morning.  He  was  here,  he  was  there.  I 
can  see  him  now,  asking  one  of  our  faint-hearted  fellows  for 
a  plug  of  tobacco,  just  that  he  might  say  something  pleasant 
to  the  poor  frightened  dog,  and  cheer  him  up.  He  was  in 
his  element  till  it  was  all  over." 

"  And  how  was  it  over  ?  "  said  Inez.  "  Did  you  have  to 
fight  them  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  no.  We  did  not  get  off  without  firing  a  good 
many  shots  before  that  day  was  over ;  and  if,  whenever  we 
come  to  dance  with  each  other,  Miss  Inez,  you  ever  find  that 
my  bridle  arm  here  is  the  least  bit  stiff,  why,  it  is  because  of 
a  flint-headed  arrow  one  of  those  rascals  put  through  it  that 
day.  But  Master  Phil  outgeneralled  them  in  the  end." 

"How?' 

"Oh!  it  was  a  simple  enough  piece  of  border  strategy. 
He  brought  us  down  to  a  shallow  place  in  the  river,  not 
commanded,  you  know,  by  any  bluffs  or  high  land ;  and 
here,  with  great  difficulty,  we  crossed,  and  got  our  wild 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  79 

horses  across,  and  all  our  packs,  and  went  into  camp,  with 
pickets  out,  and  so  on.  And  then  at  midnight  he  waked 
every  man  of  us  from  sleep,  took  us  all  back  under  a  sky  as 
dark  as  Egypt,  marched  us  full  five  miles  back  on  the  trail 
where  they  had  been  hunting  us  ;  and,  while  my  red  brethren 
were  watching  and  waiting  to  cut  our  throats  at  daybreak,  — 
having  crossed  the  river  to  lie  in  wait  for  us  as  soon  as  we 
started,  —  why,  we  were  '  over  the  hills  and  far  away.' 

"  I  don't  think  the  captain  likes  the  Apaches,"  he  said 
grimly,  as  he  finished  his  little  story. 

"  But  he  can  be  very  kind  with  the  Indians.  How  pleas 
ant  it  was  to  see  him  talking  with  those  —  Lipans,  did  you 
call  them  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  and  they  know  him  and  they  fear  him,  and  so 
far  as  it  is  in  savage  nature  they  love  him.  Far  and  wide  you 
will  hear  them  tell  these  stories  of  the  Captain  of  the  Long- 
knives —  that  is  what  they  call  him  ;  for  they  have  seen  him 
twenty  times  oftener  than  they  have  seen  any  other  officer, 
Spanish,  French,  or  American.  Twenty  times  ?  They  have 
seen  him  a  hundred  times  as  often." 

"  For  he  has  done  good  service  to  the  Spanish  crown," 
said  Eunice,  joining  again  in  the  conversation.  "  Though 
these  Spanish  gentlemen  choose  to  be  suspicious,  the  captain 
has  been  their  loyal  friend.  The  Baron  Carondelet  trusted 
him  implicitly,  and  Gov.  Gayoso  either  feared  him  or  loved 
him.  This  is  certain,  —  that  the  captain  has  done  for  them 
all  that  he  ever  said  he  would  do,  and  much  more." 

"  You  say  '  Spanish  and  American,'  "  said  Inez,  laughing. 
"  And,  now  that  he  is  the  confidential  agent  of  Gen.  Bona 
parte,  you  must  say  '  French  '  as  well." 

"You  remind  me,"  said  William  Harrod,  "to  ask  what  I 
am  to  say  if  our  Spanish  friends  at  the  fort  yonder  should 
wish  to  parlez-vous  a  little.  The  captain  would  give  them  as 
good  as  they  sent,  or  better.  But  poor  I  —  when  I  have  said 
'  Bon  jour ! '  '  Comment  vous  portcz-vous  ? '  and  '  Je  n'entends 
pas/  —  I  have  come  to  the  end  of  my  vocabulary.  What  in 
the  world  shall  I  do  ?  " 


8o  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS', 

"You  must  have  a  toothache,"  said  Inez,  laughing  as 
usual. 

"  Oh,  no !  "  said  Eunice.  "  The  confidential  agei  it  is  a 
diplomatist;  and  this  for  a  diplomatist  is  a  very  large  stock 
in  trade.  Let  me  try. 

"I  will  be  Capt.  Alfonso  Almonte,  Acting  Major  Com 
mandant  of  His  Most  Catholic  Majesty's  Presidio  and  Foit 
of  Our  Lady  of  the  Bleeding  Heart  on  the  Green  River  of 
the  West.  One  of  my  pickets  brings  in,  in  honorable  cap 
tivity,  the  Senora  Eunice  Perry  of  Orleans,  with  the  Senorita 
Inez  Perry  of  the  same  city,  and  a  mixed  company  of  black, 
white,  and  gray,  including  three  men  in  buckskin,  and  M. 
Philippe,  the  confidential  officer  of  First  Consul  Bonaparte, 
major-general  commanding. 

"  Well,  all  the  others  prove  to  be  just  what  they  should  be, 
—  amiable,  charming  travellers,  and  only  too  loyal  in  their 
enthusiasm  for  His  Most  Catholic  Majesty  King  Charles  the 
Fourth.  After  I  have  sent  them  all  to  feast  from  silver  and 
gold  ;  then  I  turn  to  you,  M.  Philippe,  and  I  say,  — 

"  '  When  did  you  leave  Paris,  monsieur  ? '  " 

Harrod  entered  into  the  joke,  and  replied  bravely,  — 

"  I  say,  '  Bon  jour ! '  " 

"  Do  you  ?  Well,  then,  I  say,  '  Good-day.  I  hope  I  see 
you  very  well ;  and  may  heaven  preserve  your  life  for  many 
years ! ' 

"  What  do  you  say  now  ?  " 

"  If  you  would  say  that  in  nice  homespun  English,"  said 
Harrod,  "  I  would  say,  '  The  same  to  you.  Long  life  and 
many  years  to  you.  Suppose  we  have  something  to  drink.'  " 

"  No ;  you  must  not  say  that  to  a  major  commandant :  it 
is  not  etiquette.  Besides,  he  does  not  speak  in  English :  he 
speaks  in  French.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  think  the  best  thing  I  could  say  would  be, '  Je  n'entends 
pas.'  See.  I  would  put  up  my  hand,  so,  as  if  I  did  not 
quite  catch  his  Excellency's  meaning ;  and  then,  very  cau 
tiously,  and  a  little  as  if  I  would  deprecate  his  anger,  I 
would  say,  '  Je  n'entends  pas.'  " 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  8 1 

"  But  this  is  mere  cowardice.  You  only  postpone  the 
irrevocable  moment.  I  should  speak  a  great  deal  louder. 
I  should  scream  and  say,  '  Bon  jour !  Dieu  te  benisse  !  Quel 
heureux  hasard  vous  a  conduit  dans  ce  pays  ? '  I  should 
say  this  with  the  last  scream  of  my  lungs.  And  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  think  I  would  then  say,  '  Comment  vous  portez- 
vous,  monsieur  ? '  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  say  that  at 
the  beginning." 

"  Well,  we  shall  soon  find  out,"  said  Eunice ;  "  for  here 
is  the  picket,  and  there  is  the  challenge." 

Sure  enough :  as  they  approached  the  adobe  buildings  of 
the  fort,  a  trooper  rode  out,  sufficiently  well  equipped  to 
show  that  he  was  in  the  royal  service,  and  asked,  "  Who  goes 
there  ? " 

Ransom  was  ready  for  him,  and  had  learned  this  time  that 
civility  was  the  best  policy.  The  corporal  of  the  Spanish 
escort  rode  forward,  and  exchanged  a  word  or  two  with  the 
sentry  of  the  garrison,  who  threw  up  his  lance  in  salute,  and 
they  all  filed  by.  A  Mexican  woman  at  work  making  cakes 
looked  up,  and  smiled  a  pretty  welcome.  She  was  "grinding 
in  a  mill."  That  means  that  she  had  two  stones,  one  some 
what  concave,  and  the  other,  so  to  speak,  a  gigantic  pestle, 
which  filled  or  fitted  into  the  cavity.  Into  the  cavity  she 
dipped  in  corn,  which  had  been  already  hulled  by  the  use  of 
lye ;  and  with  the  stone  she  ground  it  into  an  impalpable 
paste.  Had  the  ladies  staid  long  enough  to  watch  this  new 
form  of  household  duties,  they  would  have  seen  her  form 
with  her  hands  and  bake  the  tortilla,  with  which  they  were 
destined  to  be  better  acquainted.  As  it  was,  they  paused 
but  a  moment,  as  the  cort'ege  filed  by.  But  they  had  seen 
enough  to  know  that  they  were  indeed  in  a  foreign  country, 
and  that  now  they  were  to  begin  to  see  the  customs  and  hear 
the  language  of  the  subjects  of  their  unknown  king. 

Orleans,  after  all,  was  a  pure  French  city  ;  and  till  now 
none  of  this  party,  excepting  Harrod,  had  any  real  experience 
of  Mexican  life.  Nacogdoches  was  not  even  a  town,  though 


82  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

the  rudiments  of  a  civil  settlement  were  begii  ning  to  appeal 
around  the  garrison.  The  party  were  halted  until  their  dif 
ferent  passes  could  be  examined ;  but  the  news  of  the  arrival 
of  such  a  cortege  had,  of  course,  run  like  wild-fire  through 
the  post.  In  a  very  few  minutes  Don  Sebastian  Rodriguez, 
the  commandant,  had  come  forward  in  person,  bareheaded, 
to  tender  his  respects  to  the  ladies,  and  to  beg  them  to  leave 
the  saddle.  He  introduced  Col.  TreVino,  the  officer  of  the 
day,  who  said  his  wife  begged  them  to  honor  her  by  accept 
ing  her  poor  hospitality,  and  trusted  that  they  would  feel  at 
home  in  her  quarters. 

The  uniform  of  the  "  officer  of  the  day  "  was  quite  different 
from  the  uniform  of  any  Spanish  officers  whom  Inez  had  ever 
seen  before ;  for  Nacogdoches,  like  the  rest  of  Mexico,  was 
under  the  rule  of  the  Council  for  the  Indies,  while  Orleans 
was  governed  directly  by  the  Crown.  This  gentleman  had 
such  a  coat  and  waistcoat  as  the  ladies  had  seen  in  pictures 
of  a  generation  before.  He  had  on  boots  which  resembled  a 
little  an  Indian's  leggings  gartered  up,  so  soft  and  pliable 
was  the  leather.  His  coat  and  vest  were  blue  and  red,  so 
that  the  costume  did  not  lack  for  brilliancy ;  but  the  whole 
aspect,  to  the  man,  was  of  efficiency.  His  costume  certainly 
met  the  old  definition  of  a  gentleman's  dress,  for  there  was 
no  question  but  he  could  "  mount  and  ride  for  his  life." 

He  sent  a  negro  back  to  call  his  wife,  and  stepped  forward 
eagerly  to  lift  Inez  from  her  saddle,  while  Don  Sebastian 
•rendered  the  same  service  to  Eunice. 

The  lady  sent  for  came  forward  shyly,  but  with  great  court 
esy,  to  meet  the  ladies,  and  was  evidently  immensely  relieved 
when  Eunice  with  cordiality  addressed  her  in  Spanish.     For 
•the  word  had  been  through  the  station,  that  a  party  of  Ameri 
cans  had  arrived;  and  there  was  some  terror,  mixed  wilh 
much  curiosity,  as  one  and  another  of  the  natives  met  the 
-strangers.     When  Eunice  spoke  to  the  Donna  Maria  TreVino 

-  in  Spanish  rather  better  than  her  own,  the  shadow  of  this 

-  terror  passed  from  her  face,  and,  indeed,  Col.  TreVino's  face 

-  iook  on  a  different  expression. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUK  PASSPORTS."  83 

In  far  less  time  than  people  who  call  in  carriages  and  keep 
lists  of  visitors  can  conceive,  the  three  women  were  perfectly 
at  home  with  one  another.  In  less  than  five  minutes  ap 
peared  a  little  collation,  consisting  of  chocolate  and  wine  and 
fruit,  and,  as  the  Senora  TreVifio  with  some  pride  pointed  out, 
a  cup  of  tea.  Neither  Eunice  nor  Inez  implied,  by  look  or 
tone,  that  this  luxury  was  not  an  extreme  rarity  to  them.  T« 
have  said  that  tea  had  been  served  by  Ransom  morning  and 
night  at  every  resting-place,  and  at  every  bivouac,  since  they 
left  Orleans,  would  have  done  no  good,  and  certainly  would 
noi  have  been  kind. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  outer  room,  which  served  the  purpose  of 
an  office  for  Col.  TreVino,  this  functionary  and  Harrod  were 
passing  through  an  examination  none  the  less  severe  that  it 
was  couched  with  all  the  forms  of  courtesy.  But  with  the 
colonel,  as  with  his  lady,  the  Castilian  language  worked  a 
spell  to  which  even  the  wax  and  red  tape  of  the  Governor 
Casa  Calvo  were  not  equal.  Nor  was  any  curiosity  expressed 
because  Mons.  Philippe  did  not  speak  in  French.  And 
when,  after  this  interview,  the  colonel  and  Harrod  joined  the 
ladies,  as  they  did,  Ransom  having  respectfully  withdrawn 
under  the  pretext  of  seeing  personally  to  the  horses  of  the 
party,  Inez  was  greatly  amused  to  see  the  diplomatic  agent, 
Mons.  Philippe,  and  the  colonel  commanding,  Don  Francesco 
TreVino,  talking  Spanish  together  with  the  ease  and  regard 
of  old  companions  in  arms. 

Harrod  said  afterward  that  a  common  danger  made  even 
rabbits  and  wolves  to  be  friends.  "  And  my  friend  the 
colonel  was  so  much  afraid  of  this  redoubtable  filibuster 
*  Noiano,'  with  his  hundreds  of  giant  '  Kentuckians,'  that 
when  he  found  a  meek  and  humble  Frenchman  like  me,  with 
never  a  smack  of  English  on  my  tongue,  he  was  eager  to  kiss 
and  be  friends." 

The  conversation,  indeed,  had  not  been  very  unlike  that 
which  they  had  but  just  now  rehearsed  in  jest.  Ransom, 
with  perfect  civility  this  time,  had  explained  that  these  were 


84  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Spanish  ladies  with  their  servants,  travelling  to  San  Antonio, 
on  a  visit  to  their  relations.  The  name  of  Barelo,  his  brother 
officer,  was  enough  to  command  the  respect  of  Col.  Tre'vino, 
who  was  only  too  voluble  in  expressing  the  hope  that  his 
pickets  and  sentries  had  been  civil. 

"  In  truth,"  he  said,  "  we  have  been  cautious,  perhaps  too 
cautious.  But  no,  a  servant  of  the  king  is  never  too  cautious ; 
a  soldier  is  never  too  cautious.  But  we  have  received  now 
one,  two,  three  alarms,  that  the  Americans  are  to  attack  us. 
We  do  not  know  if  there  is  peace,  we  do  not  know  if  there  is 
war ;  but  we  do  not  love  republics,  we  soldiers  of  the  king. 
And  if  my  men  had  taken  you  for  the  party  of  Nolano,  — 
well,  well  —  it  is  well  —  that  there  were  ladies  was  itself  your 
protection.  The  filibusters  do  not  bring  with  them  ladies."  * 

Harrod  was  troubled  to  find  that  Nolan's  reputation  on  the 
frontier  was  so  bad,  and  felt  at  once  that  his  chief  had  not 
rated  at  the  full  the  perils  of  his  position,  when  he  ascribed 
them  merely  to  a  difference  between  Orleans  Spaniards  and 
Spaniards  of  Texas.  Of  course  the  young  man  let  no  sign 
escape  him  which  should  show  that  he  was  interested  in  Nolan 
or  his  filibusters.  He  was  only  hoping  that  Blackburn  and 
the  other  men  outside  might  be  as  prudent.  In  a  moment 
more  the  colonel  said,  with  some  embarrassment,  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  that  I  addressed  you  in  the  Castilian. 
I  see  from  Capt.  Morales's  pass  that  you  are  a  French  gentle 
man.  We  forget  that  our  friends  in  Orleans  yonder  do  not 
all  use  our  language." 

Harrod  laughed  good-naturedly,  and,  speaking  in  the  Cas 
tilian  as  before,  said,  — 

"  It  is  indeed  a  pleasure  to  me  to  speak  in  the  Spanish 
when  I  am  permitted.  As  the  language  is  more  convenient 
to  the  ladies,  let  us  retain  it,  if  you  please." 

1  This  word  "filibusters,"  originally  the  English  word  "freebooters,"  and  as 
such  familiarly  used  on  the  coast  of  Mexico  and  the  Spanish  main, had  degenerated 
on  Spanish  tongues  into  the  word  "  filibuster."  It  was  funiliarly  used  for  an 
invader  who  came  for  plunder,  whether  he  crossed  the  frontier  by  land  or  by  sea. 
It  has  passed  back  into  our  language  without  regaining  its  original  spelling  and 
pronunciation. 


OK,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  85 

The  colonel  had  been  about  to  say  that  he  would  call  a 
lieutenant  upon  his  staff,  who  spoke  the  French  more  freely 
than  he  did ;  but  the  readiness  of  the  French  gentleman  saved 
him  fr>m  this  necessity;  an<I,  with  relief  only  next  to  that 
which  he  had  shown  when  he  found  he  was  not  talking  to  the 
dreaded  Nolan,  he  entered  into  free  conversation  in  his  own 
tongue.  In  this  language  Harrod  had  for  many  years  been 
quite  at  home. 

The  colonel  finished  his  examination  of  the  elaborate  pass 
furnished  by  Casa  Calvo,  intimated  that  he  would  prepare  a 
more  formal  document  than  that  given  in  the  saddle  by  Capt. 
Morales,  and  then,  having  made  himself  sure  that  the  little 
collation  was  prepared,  proposed  that  they  should  join  the 
ladies. 

The  ladies  felt,  as  Harrod  had  done,  that  a  single  word 
even  of  English  might  prejudice  the  cordiality  of  their  recep 
tion.  Even  old  Ransom  had  made  this  out,  by  that  divine 
instinct  or  tact  which  was  an  essential  part  of  his  make-up  \ 
and  when  he  came  for  orders,  so  called,  from  the  ladies,  even 
if  he  whispered  to  them  and  they  to  him,  it  was  always  in  the 
Spanish  language.  Indeed,  Inez  said  afterward,  that,  when 
he  chose  to  swear  at  the  muleteers,  it  was  in  oaths  of  the 
purest  Castilian. 

As  he  left  the  room  for  the  first  time,  Harrod  called  him 
back,  and  whispered  to  him  also.  This  was  to  bid  him  tell 
Blackburn,  and  the  others  of  his  immediate  command,  that, 
as  they  loved  Capt  Nolan,  they  were  not  to  speak  in  English, 
either  to  Harrod  or  to  one  another,  while  they  were  in  Na- 
cogdoches.  They  were  to  remember  that  they  were  all  French 
hunters,  and,  if  they  did  not  speak  French,  they  must  speak 
Choctaw,  —  an  alternative  which  all  three  accepted. 

"  Let  me  present  to  you,  my  dear  wife,  Mons.  Philippe,  the 
gentleman  who  accompanies  these  ladies,  —  a  French  gentle 
man,  my  dear." 

Harrod  bowed  with  all  the  elegance  of  Paris  and  Kentucky 
united. 


86  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"  I  have  been  explaining,  ladies,  to  your  friends,  the  causes 
of  these  preparations  of  war,  —  the  oversight  of  passports 
and  the  challenge  of  travellers,  so  unusual,  and  so  foreign  to 
hospitality  in  the  time  of  peace  ;  if,  indeed,  this  be  peace. 
May  God  bless  us!  Only  he  knows,  and  the  blessed  Virgin." 

"  Is  it,  then,  a  time  of  war  ? "  asked  Eunice,  —  "  and  with 
whom  ?  " 

"  The  good  God  knows,  senora :  if  only  I  were  equally 
fortunate  !  Whether  our  gracious  master,  the  good  King 
Charles  IV.,  is  not  at  this  moment  in  war  with  this  great 
Gen.  Bonaparte,"  —  and  he  bowed,  with  a  droll  and  sad  effort 
at  civility,  toward  "  Mons.  Philippe,"  as  if  that  gentleman 
were  himself  the  young  Corsican  adventurer,  "  —  or  whether 
these  wild  republicans  of  the  American  States  have  not  made 
war  upon  us,  the  good  God  —  may  he  bless  us  all !  —  and  the 
holy  Mother  know ;  but  I  do  not." 

"  Surely  I  can  relieve  your  anxiety,  colonel,"  said  Eunice, 
in  her  most  confiding  manner.  "  We  are  not  yet  a  fortnight 
from  Orleans,  and  we  had  then  news  only  nine  weeks  from 
Europe.  So  far  from  war,  the  First  Consul  was  cementing 
peace  with  our  august  king.  I  shall  have  pleasure  in  show 
ing  you  a  French  gazette  which  makes  us  certain  of  that 
happy  intelligence.  Then,  from  our  neighbors  of  the  Ameri 
can  States  there  were  no  news  but  such  as  were  most  peace 
ful." 

"But  your  ladyship  does  not  understand,"  said  Col.  Tre*- 
vino,  hoping  that  she  might  not  see  how  much  he  was  relieved 
by  the  intelligence,  —  "your  ladyship  does  not,  can  not,  un 
derstand  the  anxieties  of  a  command  like  ours.  It  is  not  the 
published  war,  it  is  not  the  campaigns  which  can  be  told  in 
gazettes,  and  proclaimed  by  heralds,  which  we  soldiers  dread." 
Again  with  an  approving  glance  at  Mons.  Philippe,  as  if  he 
were  Bonaparte  in  person.  "  It  is  the  secret  plots,  the  war  in 
disguise.  This  Nolano  will  not  send  word  in  advance  that 
he  is  coming." 

Inez  started,  in  spite  of  herself,  as  she  heard  the  name ; 


OK,   "SIIOIY  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  87 

and  then  she  could  have  punished  herself  by  whatever  torture 
for  her  lack  of  self-control.  She  need  not  have  been  dis 
tressed.  The  Col.  Trevino  did  not  suspect  a  girl  of  seven 
teen  of  caring  any  more  for  what  he  said,  than  the  cat  who 
was  purring  in  the  Donna  TreVino's  arms. 

"This  Nolano  will  not  send  word  in  advance  that  he  i« 
coming.  He  will  swoop  down  on  us  with  his  giants,  as 
a  troop  of  buffalo  swoops  down  upon  a  drinking-pond  in 
yonder  prairie.  And  he  must  return, — yes,  may  the  Holy 
Lady  grant  it !  God  be  blessed  !  —  he  must  return  as  a  flock 
of  antelopes  return  when  they  have  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
hunters." 

The  colonel  was  well  pleased  with  this  bit  of  rhetoric. 
Eunice,  meanwhile,  had  not  changed  glance  nor  color. 

"  Who  is  this  Nolano  of  whom  you  speak  ?  Is  he  an  officer 
of  Gen.  Bonaparte?" 

"  Grace  of  God !  No,  madame  !  He  is  one  of  these 
Americans  of  the  north,  who  propose  to  march  from  their 
cold,  wintry  recesses  to  capture  the  city  of  Mexico ;  to  take 
the  silver-mines  of  our  king,  and  divide  them  for  their  spoil. 
Our  advices,  madam,  are  not  so  distinct  as  I  could  wish ;  but 
we  know  enough  to  be  sure  that  this  man  has  recruited  an 
army  in  the  east,  and,  if  the  way  opens,  will  attack  us." 

"  Impossible,"  said  Eunice  bravely,  "  that  he  should  have 
recruited  an  army,  and  the  Marquis  of  Casa  Calvo  know 
nothing  of  it !  Impossible  that  the  marquis  should  permit 
me  and  this  lady  to  travel  in  a  country  so  soon  to  be  the 
scene  of  war  !  " 

"  A  thousand  pardons,  senora,"  persisted  the  other.  "  We 
speak  under  the  rose  here.  Let  it  be  confessed  that  the 
Marquis  of  Casa  Calvo  is  not  so  young  as  he  was  forty  years 
ago,  nor  so  sharp-sighted.  Our  sovereign  places  him,  per 
haps,  at  Orleans;  let  us  say  —  yes,  may  the  Holy  Mother 
preserve  us! — because  that  is  not  the  place  of  action  and 
of  arms.  For  us,  —  why,  we  have  seen  Philippo  Nolano, 
and  that  within  two  years." 


88  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Poor  Inez  !  She  did  not  dare  to  glance  at  Haired  ;  but 
she  longed  to  strike  an  attitude  rivalling  the  colonel's,  and  to 
say,— 

"  And  we  have  seen  Philippe  Nolano,  and  that  within  two 
days." 

But  the  position,  though  it  had  its  ludicrous  side,  was  of 
course  sufficiently  critical  to  keep  them  all  seriously  watch 
ful  of  word  and  glar  :e  alike. 

"Indeed!"  said  Eunice  seriously,  "how  was  this?  and 
what  manner  of  man  is  he  ?  What  do  you  say  his  name 
is?" 

"  His  name  is  Nolano,  my  lady ;  his  baptismal  name,  if 
these  heretics  have  any  baptism,  is  Philippo :  may  the  Saint 
Philippo  pardon  me,  and  preserve  us  !  Do  we  know  him  ? 
VVhy,  he  made  his  home  in  this  very  presidio  of  Nacogdoches, 
and  that  not  two  years  ago.  My  lady,  he  has  sat  in  that 
:hair,  he  has  drunk  from  this  cup.  To  think  that  such 
treason  should  lurk  in  these  walls,  and  study  out  in  advance 
Dur  defences ! " 

At  this  point,  the  little  lady  of  the  group  took  courage. 

"  My  dear  husband,"  said  the  Senora  TreViiio,  "  let  us 
idmit  that  we  were  very  glad  to  see  him.  —  Indeed,  ladies, 
he  is  a  most  agreeable  person,  though  he  be  an  American  of 
the  north,  and  a  filibuster.  He  was  here  for  some  time ;  and 
he  knew  the  language  of  the  Americans  so  well,  that  in  all 
business  he  served  my  husband  and  the  other  officers  here  as 
an  interpreter.  There  were  some  Americans  arrested  for 
illicit  trade,  —  silver,  you  know,"  and  she  dropped  her  voice, 
—  "  two  men  with  a  hard  name  ;  but  I  learned  it,  so  often  did 
I  hear  it.  There  was  a  process  about  these  men  :  Eastridge 
was  their  name.  Oh  !  it  lasted  for  months  ;  and  often  was 
your  namesake  Don  Philippo  in  the  chair  you  sat  in,  Mons. 
Philippo  ;  he  was  discussing  their  business  with  my  hus 
band  "  — 

"  And  playing  chess  with  my  wife,"  said  the  colonel,  inter 
rupting  her.     "Ah,  he  was  a  very  cunning  soldier,  was  your 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  89 

Don !  There  is  no  secret  of  our  defences  but  is  known  to 
him ;  and  now  he  comes  with  an  army." 

•'  Surely,"  said  Eunice  as  bravely  as  before,  "  you  do  not 
speak  of  the  Cape.  Nolan  who  was  so  near  a  friend  of  the 
Baron  Carondelet  ?  Why,  he  was  presented  to  me  by  the 
Baron  himself  at  a  ball." 

Col.  TreVino  confessed  that  Nolan  brought  him  letters  at 
one  time  from  the  Baron. 

"  And  my  brother  has  dined  with  him  at  Gen.  Gayoso's 
palace.  Oh  !  it  is  impossible  that  this  person  can  lead  an 
American  army." 

"  Ladies,"  said  the  colonel,  clasping  his  hands,  "  a  soldier 
must  believe  nothing,  and  he  must  believe  every  thing  also. 
May  all  the  saints  preserve  us  !  " 

And  Eunice  felt  that  she  had  pressed  the  defence  of  hei 
friend  as  far  as  was  safe,  or  to  his  advantage. 


90  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE   DRESSED   DAY. 

"  A  visit  should  be  of  three  days  length. 
I.  The  Rest  Day.     2.  The  Dressed  Day. 
3.  The  Pressed  Day."  —  Miss  FERRIER. 

THE  respect  due  to  a  reception  so  courteous  as  that  with 
which  the  Colonels  TreVino  and  Rodriguez  welcomed  the 
party,  compelled  a  stay  in  Nacogdoches  over  one  full  day. 
In  truth,  Philip  Nolan  had  advised  a  stay  so  long,  and  had 
told  the  ladies  that  he  had  a  thousand  ways  of  informing 
himself  at  what  moment  they  should  leave  the  fort  to  pro 
ceed  westward.  The  morning  of  the  day  after  the  arrival  of 
the  ladies  was  spent  in  a  prolonged  breakfast,  in  which  the 
senora  did  her  best  to  show  her  guests  that  the  resources  of 
'a.  military  post  were  not  contemptible.  And  indeed  she 
succeeded.  When  she  had  made  it  certain  that  they  were 
not  too  much  fatigued  by  their  five  days'  ride  from  the  river, 
she  took  order  to  assemble  at  supper  all  the  officers  of  the 
command  and  their  wives ;  and  the  preparations  for  this  little 
f£te  filled  the  colonel's  quarters  with  noisy  bustle,  quite 
unusual,  through  the  morning. 

In  the  midst  of  this  domestic  turmoil,  —  not  so  different, 
after  all,  from  what  Eunice  and  Inez  had  seen  on  the  planta 
tion,  when  Silas  Perry  had  brought  up  an  unexpected  com 
pany  of  guests,  —  a  new  turmoil  broke  out  in  the  square,  and 
called  most  of  the  occupants  of  the  house  out  upon  the 
arcade  which  fronted  it.  The  Lady  Trevino  was  not  too 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  91 

dignified  to  join  the  groups  of  curious  inquirers ;  and  she  did 
not  return  at  once  to  her  guests. 

Ransom  did  come  in,  under  the  pretence  of  asking  if  they 
needed  any  thing,  but  really  because  there  was  news  to  tell. 
He  satisfied  himself  that  in  this  dark  inner  room  there  were 
no  eavesdroppers,  and  that  those  heavy  stone  walls  had  no 
ears ;  and  then  he  indulged  himself,  though  in  a  low  tone,  in 
the  forbidden  luxury  of  the  vernacular. 

"  Pray  what  is  it,  Ransom  ?  "  asked  Inez,  speaking  always 
in  Spanish. 

"  All  nonsense,"  said  the  old  man,  — "  all  nonsense  :  told 
'em  so  myself,  but  they  would  not  hear  to  me.  Spanishers 
and  niggers  all  on  'em,  nothin'  but  Greasers:  don't  know 
nothin',  told  'em  so  —  all  nonsense." 

Then  after  a  pause  :  — 

"  White  gal  'z  old  as  you  be,  Een :  "  this  was  his  short 
hand  way  of  saying  "  Miss  Inez,"  when  he  was  off  guard. 

"White  gal  dressed  jest  like  them  Injen  women  ye  see 
down  on  the  levy.  They  catched  her  up  here  among  the 
Injens,  and  brought  her  away.  She  can't  speak  nothin'  but 
Injen,  and  they  don't  know  what  she  says.  They  brought 
her  down  from  up  there  among  the  Injens  where  they  catched 
her.  She's  dressed  jest  like  them  Injen  women  ye  see  on 
the  levy ;  but  she's  a  white  gal  — old  as  you  be,  Een." 

Inez  knew  by  long  experience  that  when  one  of  Ransom's 
speeches  had  thus  balanced  itself  by  repetition  backward  to 
the  beginning,  —  as  a  musical  air  returns  to  the  keynote, — 
she  might  put  in  a  question  without  disturbing  him. 

"  Who  found  her,  Ransom  ?     Who  brought  her  in  ?  " 

"  Squad  o'  them  soldiers  ;  call  'em  soldiers,  ain't  soldiers, 
none  on  'em :  ain't  one  on  'em  can  stand  the  Choctaw  Injens 
two  minutes.  Was  ten  on  'em  goin'  along,  and  had  a  priest 
with  'em,  —  'n  they  met  a  lot  o'  Injens  half-starved,  they 
said.  Men  was  clean  lost,  —  hadn't  got  no  arrows,  and 
couldn't  git  no  game.  Didn't  b'long  here  :  got  down  here'n 
got  lost;  didn't  know  nothin'.  Injens  had  this  white  gal, — 


92  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

white  as  you  be,  Een,  —  'n  the  priest  said  he  wouldn't .  gin 
'em  nothin'  ef  they  wouldn't  let  him  have  the  white  gal. 
They  didn't  want  to,  but  he  made  'em,  he  did ;  said  they 
should  not  have  nothin'  ef  they  wouldn't  let  him  have  the 
white  gal.  White  as  you  be  she  is,  Miss  Eunice." 

Inez  was  all  excited  by  this  time,  and  begged  her  aunt  to 
join  the  party  in  the  arcade,  —  which  they  did. 

True  enough,  just  under  the  gallery,  was  this  tall  wild  girl, 
of  singularly  clear  brunette  complexion,  but  of  features 
utterly  distinct  from  those  of  an  Indian  squaw.  Eunice  and 
Inez,  indeed,  both  felt  that  the  girl  was  not  of  Spanish,  but 
of  Anglo-Saxon  or  Scotch-Irish  blood,  though,  in  the  unpop 
ularity  of  their  own  lineage  in  Nacogdoches,  neither  of  them 
thought  it  best  to  say  so.  Three  or  four  of  the  Mexican 
women  of  the  post  were  around  the  girl,  some  of  them 
examining  her  savage  ornaments,  some  of  them  plying  her 
with  tortillas  and  fruit,  and  even  milk,  under  the  impression 
that  she  must  be  hungry.  The  girl  herself  looked  round, 
not  without  curiosity,  and  in  a  dozen  pretty  ways  showed 
that  she  was  not  of  the  same  phlegmatic  habit  as  her  recent 
possessors. 

In  a  few  moments  the  Senora  TreVino  returned,  having 
given  some  orders  for  the  poor  girl's  comfort,  the  results  of 
which  immediately  appeared. 

But  when  she  called  the  girl  to  her  most  kindly,  and  when 
she  came  under  the  arcade  as  she  was  beckoned,  the  ladies 
could  make  no  progress  in  communicating  with  her.  She 
seemed  to  have  no  knowledge  of  Spanish,  nor  yet  of  French. 
If  she  had  been  taken  prisoner  from  either  a  Spanish  or 
French  settlement,  it  was  when  she  was  so  young  that  she 
had  forgotten  their  language. 

Inez  tried  her  with  "  madre  "  and  "  padre  ;.  "  the  Senora 
TreVino  pointed  reverently  to  a  crucifix,  and  a  Madonna  with 
folded  hands.  But  the  girl  showed  no  other  curiosity  than 
for  the  other  articles  of  taste  or  luxury  —  if  such  simple 
adornments  can  be  called  such. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  93 

"  Still,  Eunice,"  cried  Inez,  "  I  am  sure  she  understood 
mamma.'  Say  '  ma  '  to  her  alone." 

Meanwhile  Mme.  TreVino  called  one  and  another  woman 
and  servant  who  had  some  smattering  of  Indian  dialects ; 
but  the  girl  would  smile  good-naturedly,  and  could  make 
nothing  of  what  they  said.  But  this  suggested  to  Eunice 
that  she  might  beckon  to  Blackburn  the  hunter,  who  was 
lounging  in  the  group  in  front ;  and  in  a  whisper  she  bade 
him  address  the  girl  in  the  Choctaw  dialect. 

This  language  was  wholly  distinct  from  any  of  the  dialects 
of  the  west  of  the  Mississippi  —  as  these,  indeed,  changed 
completely,  even  between  tribes  whose  hunting-grounds  were 
almost  the  same. 

Blackburn  did  as  he  was  bidden,  but  without  the  least  suc 
cess  ;  but  in  a  moment  he  fell  back  on  the  gift  of  silence, 
and  began  in  the  wonderful  pantomime,  which  the  ladies  had 
already  seen  so  successful  between  Nolan  and  the  Lipan 
chief. 

The  girl  smiled  most  intelligently,  nodded  assent,  and  in 
the  most  vivid,  rapid,  and  active  gesture,  entered  on  a  long 
narration,  if  it  may  be  called  so,  of  her  life  with  the  Indians. 
Blackburn  sometimes  had  to  bid  her  be  more  slow,  and  re 
peat  herself.  But  it  was  clear  enough  that  they  were  both 
on  what  he  would  have  called  the  right  trail,  and  he  was 
coming  at  a  full  history  of  her  adventures. 

But  a  new  difficulty  arose  when  Blackburn  was  to  interpret 
what  he  had  learned.  He  made  a  clumsy  effort  in  a  few 
words  of  bread-and-butter  Spanish,  such  as  all  Western  men 
picked  up  in  the  groceries  and  taverns  at  Natchez.  But  this 
language  was  very  incompetent  for  what  he  had  to  tell.  Still 
the  good  fellow  knew  that  he  must  not  speak  English  in  the 
presence  of  these  Greasers ;  and  he  bravely  struggled  on  in  a 
Spanish  which  was  as  unintelligible  as  his  Choctaw. 

In  the  midst  of  this  confusion  Ransom  came  to  the  front, 
and  addressed  him  boldly :  — 

"  Est-ce-que  vous  ne  parlez  Fran^ais  bien,  mon  camarade  ? 


94  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS, 

Then  speak  hog  English,  but  I'll  tell  'em  it's  Dutch.  Say 
parkz-vous  at  the  beginning,  and  oui  monsieur  at  the  end." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  Sefiora  TreVino,  and  bowed  with  a 
smile,  and  told  her  that  the  man  was  a  poor  ignorant  dog 
from  Flanders,  who  had  been  in  the  woods  as  a  hunter  ever 
since  he  came  abroad  as  a  boy ;  that  he  spoke  very  little 
French,  and  that  very  badly ;  but  that  he,  Ransom,  had  seen 
him  so  much  that  he  could  understand  him. 

Then  he  turned  to  Blackburn :  — 

"  N'oubliez  pas,  mon  ami,  —  don't  forget  a  word  I  tell  you. 
Pepper  it  well,  and  don't  git  us  hanged  for  nothin'.  Ensuite 
—  tout  ensemble  —  oui,  monsieur." 

"  Oui,  monsieur,  vraiment,"  said  Blackburn  bravely.  "  The 
gal  don't  remember  when  she  did  not  live  with  the  redskins, 
sacrement !  parbleu  !  mon  Dieu !  But  she  does  not  remem 
ber  her  own  mother,  who  died  ten  years  ago.  Parlcz-vous 
Fran^ais,  Saint  Denis  !  Since  then  she  has  lived  as  they  all 
live.  Comment,  monsieur.  She  says  she  wants  to  go  to  the 
East,  that  her  mother  bade  her  go  there.  Morbleu  !  sacre 
ment  !  oui,  monsieur.  She  says  the  redskins  wasn't  kind  to 
her,  and  wasn't  hard  on  her,  but  didn't  give  her  enough  to 
eat,  and  made  her  walk  when  her  feet  was  sore.  Mere  de 
Dieu,  sacrement !  Saint  Denis  —  bon  jour  ! " 

It  was  clear  enough  that  poor  Blackburn's  French  had 
been  mostly  picked  up  among  the  voyagers  on  the  river,  and. 
alas !  from  their  profane,  rather  than  their  ethical  or  aesthetic 
moments.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  to  the  Senora  Tre*- 
vino  the  poor  smattering  would  not  have  betrayed  rather 
than  helped  the  poor  fellow,  but  that  her  sympathies  were  so 
wholly  engrossed  by  the  condition  of  the  captive  that  she 
cared  little  by  what  means  her  story  was  interpreted. 

In  a  moment  more,  Ransom  had  explained  it  in  voluble 
Spanish. 

"  Ask  him  for  her  name,  Ransom ;  ask  if  she  knew  her 
mother's  name  ;  ask  him  how  old  she  is,"  cried  Inez  eagerly. 

"  She  says  the  Indians  call  her  the  White  Hawk,  but  that 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  95 

her  mother  called  her  Mar}',  and  bade  her  never  forget,"  said 
the  old  man,  really  wiping  his  eyes.  "  She  says  she  is  sixteen 
summers  old." 

Inez  seized  the  girl's  hand,  and  said  "Marie,"  of  which 
she  made  nothing ;  but  when  the  girl  said  squarely  "  Mary," 
"  Mary,"  and  then  said  "  Ma  "  —  "  Ma  "  —  "  Ma,"  the  poor 
captive's  face  flushed  for  the  first  time  ;  and  she  seized  both 
Inez's  hands,  repeated  all  these  syllables  after  her,  and  broke 
into  a  flood  of  tears. 

"Ma-ry,"  said  Eunice  slowly  to  the  Senora  TreVino:  "it  is 
the  way  they  pronounce  Marie  in  the  eastern  provinces." 

In  a  moment  more  appeared  the  portly  and  cheerful  Father 
Andre's,  who  had  by  good  fortune  accompanied  the  foraging 
party  which  had  brought  in  this  waif  from  the  forest.  To  his 
presence  with  the  soldiers,  indeed,  it  is  probable  that  she 
owed  her  redemption. 

Ransom's  story  was  substantially  correct.  This  was  a 
little  band  of  Apaches,  who  had  by  an  accident  been  cut  off 
from  the  principal  company  of  their  tribe,  and  by  a  series  of 
misfortunes  had  lost  their  horses  and  most  of  their  weapons. 
They  were  loath  to  throw  themselves  on  Spanish  hospitality, 
and  well  they  might  be.  Still,  when  the  troopers  had  struck 
their  trail  and  overtaken  them,  the  savages  were  in  great 
destitution  and  well-nigh  starving.  They  were  out  of  their 
own  region,  were  trying  to  return  to  it  on  foot,  and  were 
living  as  they  might  on  such  rabbits  as  they  could  snare,  and 
such  wild  fruits  as  they  could  find.  Father  Andre's,  with  a 
broader  humanity,  had  agreed  to  give  a  broken-down  mule 
and  a  quarter  of  venison  as  a  ransom  for  the  girl ;  and  both 
parties  had  been  well  satisfied  with  the  exchange. 

For  the  girl  herself,  —  she  was  tall,  graceful  in  movement, 
eminently  handsome,  with  features  of  perfect  regularity,  eyes 
large  and  black,  and  with  her  head  fairly  burdened  with  the 
luxuriant  masses  of  hair,  which  were  gathered  up  with  some 
savage  ornament,  but  insisted  upon  curling  in  a  most  un- 
Indian-like  way.  There  was  a  singular  unconsciousness  in 


96  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

her  demeanor,  like  that  of  an  animal.  -  Inez  said  she  never 
knew  that  you  were  looking  at  her.  Once  and  again,  in  this 
little  first  interview,  she  started  to  her  feet,  and  stood  erect 
and  animated,  with  an  eagerness  which  the  Spanish  women 
around  her,  or  their  Indian  servants,  never  showed,  and  could 
not  understand.  Perhaps  she  never  seemed  so  attractive  as 
in  these  animated  pantomimes  in  which  she  answered  their 
questions,  or  explained  the  detail  of  her  past  history. 

Soon  after  the  arrival  of  Father  Andres,  Harrod  returned 
from  riding  with  the  officers.  He  explained  to  Donna  Isa 
bella  that  he  had  acquired  some  knowledge  of  the  Indian 
pantomime  in  his  hunting  expeditions.  By  striking  out  one 
superfluous  interpreter  from  the  chain,  he  gave  simplicity  and 
animation  to  the  stranger's  narrative. 

She  remembered  perfectly  well  many  things  that  her 
.mother  had  told  her,  though  she  showed  only  the  slightest 
knowledge  of  her  mother's  language.  But,  on  this  point, 
Harrod  and  the  ladies  from  Orleans  were  determined  to  try 
her  more  fully  when  they  were  alone.  The  village,  whatever 
it  was,  of  her  birthplace,  had  been  fortified  against  savages ; 
but  a  powerful  tribe  had  attacked  it,  and,  after  long  fighting, 
the  whites  had  surrendered.  But  what  was  surrender  to 
such  a  horde  ?  So  soon  as  they  had  laid  down  their  weapons, 
the  Indians  had  slaughtered  every  man,  and  every  boy  large 
enough  to  carry  arms.  Next  they  had  killed  for  convenience' 
sake  every  child  not  big  enough  to  travel  with  them  in  their 
rapid  retreat.  The  women  they  had  kept,  and  if  any  woman 
chose  to  keep  her  baby  the  whim  was  indulged.  Such  a 
baby  was  this  "  Ma-ry,"  —  the  White  Hawk  just  now  rescued. 
Her  mother  had  clung  to  her  in  every  trial.  Lorg,  long 
before  the  White  Hawk  could  remember  any  thing,  she  and 
her  mother  had  been  sold  to  some  other  tribe,  which  took 
them  far  from  other  captives  of  their  own  race.  With  this 
tribe  —  who  were  Apaches,  of  Western  Texas  —  she  had 
lived  ever  since  she  could  remember.  She  had  always  heard 
of  whites.  She  had  always  known  she  was  one  of  them. 
But  she  had  never  seen  a  white  man  till  yesterday. 


OK,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS:'1  97 

"  And,  now  you  are  with  us,  you  will  stay  with  us,"  said 
Donna  Isabella  eagerly. 

The  girl  did  not  so  much  as  notice  her  appeal ;  for  she 
happened  to  be  looking  on  one  of  the  thousand  marvels 
around  her,  so  that  she  did  not  catch  the  eagerness  of  the 
Spanish  lady's  eye,  and  she  understood  not  a  syllable  of  hei 
language.  Harrod  touched  her  gently,  and  repeated  the 
appeal  to  her  in  a  pantomime  which  the  others  could  partly 
follow. 

Then  the  White  Hawk  smiled,  —  oh !  so  prettily,  —  and 
replied  in  a  pantomime  which  they  could  not  follow ;  but  she 
placed  her  hand  in  Donna  Isabella's,  in  Eunice's,  and  in 
Inez's,  in  rapid  succession,  just  pausing  long  enough  before 
each  to  give  the  assurance  of  loyalty. 

"  She  says  that  she  promised  her  mother  every  night, 
before  she  slept,  that  she  would  go  to  her  own  people,  —  the 
whites.  Whenever  she  can  go  to  the  rising  sun  to  find  them, 
she  must  go.  But  she  says  she  is  sure  you  three  will  be  true 
to  her,  and  that  she  will  be  true  to  you.  She  says  she  must 
find  her  mother's  brothers  and  sisters,  and  she  says  you  must 
be  her  guides." 

Inez's  eyes  were  brimming  with  tears. 

"  Can  we  find  them,  Mons.  Philippe  ?  How  can  we  find 
them  ?  Where  was  this  massacre,  and  when  ? " 

The  Spanish  officers  shrugged  their  shoulders  at  this,  and 
said  that,  alas  !  there  was  only  too  much  of  such  cruelty  all 
along  the  frontier.  The  story,  Harrod  said,  was  like  that  of 
the  massacre  at  Fort  Loudon,  but  that  was  too  long  ago. 
The  truth  was,  that  for  seventy  years,  from  the  time  when 
the  Indians  of  Natchez  sacrificed  the  French  garrison  there, 
down  to  that  moment,  such  carnage  had  been  everywhere. 
Harrod  told  the  ladies  afterward  that  in  only  seven  years, 
about  the  time  of  which  the  White  Hawk  spoke,  fifteen 
hundred  of  the  people  of  Kentucky  had  been  killed  or  taken 
prisoners,  and  as  many  more  on  the  Ohio  River  above  Ken 
tucky.  Which  village  of  a  hundred,  therefore,  was  White. 


98  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Hawk's  village,  of  which  mother  of  a  thousand  was  hers,  it 
would  be  hard  to  tell. 

But  Eunice  thought  that  in  that  eye  and  face  she  saw  the 
distinct  sign  of  that  Scotch-Irish  race  which  carries  with  it, 
wherever  it  emigrates,  such  matchless  beauty  of  color, 
whether  for  women  or  for  men.  But  of  this  to  their  Spanish 
friends  she  said  nothing. 

So  unusual  a  ripple  in  the  stagnant  life  of  the  garrison 
threw  back  the  memory  of  the  arrival  of  the  ladies  from 
Orleans  quite  in  the  distance.  Still,  when  the  evening  came, 
and  the  Donna  Isabella's  guests  gathered,  it  proved  that  the 
several  ladies  of  the  little  "  society  "  had  not  been  unmindful 
of  the  duties  they  owed  to  fashion.  Most  of  them  were 
attired  in  the  latest  styles  of  Mexico  and  Madrid  which  were 
known  to  them.  Others  relied  boldly  on  the  advices  they 
had  received  from  their  correspondents,  and  wore  what  they 
supposed  the  latest  fashion  of  Europe  outside  of  Spain.  All 
came,  eager  with  curiosity  to  see  what  were  the  latest  dates 
from  Orleans  and  from  Paris.  With  some  difficulty,  and  in 
the  face  of  many  protests  from  Ransom,  Eunice  and  Inez 
were  able  to  indulge  them.  It  was  necessary  to  open  some 
packs  which  had  been  put  up  for  San  Antonio,  and  San 
Antonio  only. 

Ransom  said  this  was  impossible.  Eunice  said  it  must  be 
done.  Ransom  said  he  would  not  do  it.  Eunice  said  that 
then  she  should  have  to  do  it  herself.  Ransom  then  knew 
that  he  had  played  his  last  card,  went  and  opened  the  packs 
in  question,  brought  them  to  the  ladies,  and  declared  that  it 
was  the  easiest  thing  in  life  to  do  so,  and  that,  in  fact,  they 
ought  to  be  opened,  because  they  needed  the  air.  For  such 
was  Ransom's  way  when  he  was  met  face  to  face. 

We  ought  to  tell  our  fair  readers  how  these  two  ladies 
were  dressed  on  that  October  evening.  Not  so  different  in 
the  effect  at  a  distance  from  the  costumes  of  to-day ;  but  the 
waists  of  their  frocks  were  very  close  under  their  arms,  as  if 
they  were  the  babes  of  1876  at  the  baptismal  font.  For  the 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  99 

rest,  the  skirts  were  scant,  as  Inez's  diary  tells  me,  and  the 
trimming  was  their  glory. 

Would  you  like  to  see  Mme.  Fan  tine's  account  of  the  dress 
which  Inez  wore  that  evening?  It  is,  "  Coiffure  a  1'hirondelle. 
Robe  a  soie  bleue  a  demi  traine ;  la  jupe  garnie  des  pail 
lettes."  Now,  paillettes  were  little  round  steel  spangles. 

There!  Is  not  that  the  loyal  and  frank  way  for  the 
novelist  of  the  nineteenth  century  when  he  has  his  heroine's 
costume  to  describe  ? 

But  Mme.  Fantine  could  not  have  described  the  White 
Hawk's  dress,  —  "  Ma-ry's ;  "  and,  after  all,  she  was  the  belle 
of  the  evening.  The  Donna  Isabella  and  Inez,  principally 
Inez,  had  devoted  themselves  to  her  toilet  through  the 
afternoon.  To  dress  her  as  a  Christian  woman  had  been 
Donna  Isabella's  first  idea ;  but,  to  say  truth,  Donna  Isabel 
la's  idea  of  Christianity  was  not  unlike  that  of  the  mission 
aries  in  Africa,  whose  first  great  triumph  was  the  persuading 
the  natives  to  bury  their  dead  in  coffins.  If  the  Donna 
Isabella  could  have  seen  the  White  Hawk  in  a  mantilla  and 
long  silk  wrapper,  she  would  have  been  as  well  satisfied  as 
Father  Andre's  if  he  could  place  baptismal  waters  on  her 
forehead.  To  such  costume  White  Hawk  herself  objected. 
Could  she  have  spoken  Hebrew,  she  would  have  said,  with 
Jesse's  son,  "  I  have  not  proved  them."  And  here  our  pretty 
Inez  proved  her  loyal  friend.  How  charming  it  was  to  see 
these  lovely  girls  together !  No :  White  Hawk  had  come  to 
them  in  savage  costume,  and  so  it  was  best  that  she  should 
come  to  the  party.  Only  these  feathers  must  be  crisp  and 
new ;  and  the  presidio  was  quite  competent  to  furnish  crisp, 
new  crane's  feathers.  This  doeskin  tunic,  —  yes,  it  did  have 
a  bad  smell,  even  Inez  had  to  confess  that ;  but  the  quarter 
master  produced  a  lovely  new  doeskin,  at  the  sight  of  which 
those  black  eyes  of  White  Hawk's  flashed  fire  ;  and  what 
with  Inez's  needle,  and  Eunice's,  and  the  Mexican  maid  of 
Donna  Isabella,  and  White  Hawk's  own  nimble  fingers,  every 
pretty  fringe,  every  feather,  with  every  bead  and  every  shell, 


ioo  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

from  the  old  wilderness- worn  dress,  were  transferred  in  an 
hour  to  the  new  robe.  As  for  hair,  as  Inez  said,  there  was 
not  a  major's  wife,  nor  a  captain's,  at  the  party,  but  envied 
White  Hawk  her  magnificent  coiffure. 

For  slippers  —  alias  moccasins  —  they  were  fain  to  go  to 
the  storehouse  of  the  presidio  again,  and  select  one  of  the 
smallest  pair  they  found  there  made  ready  for  women's  wear. 
They  gave  these  to  White  Hawk,  who  laughed  merrily.  Be 
fore  the  "  party "  began,  they  were  embroidered  with  the 
brightest  colors,  discovered  only  White  Hawk  knew  where  or 
how. 

Thus  apparelled.  White  Hawk  certainly  drew  all  eyes. 
Inez  confessed  that  she  paled  her  ineffectual  fires.  Her 
ivory  fan,  fresh  from  Paris,  did  not  win  the  homage,  she  said, 
which  White  Hawk  won  by  her  crane's  feathers. 

"  And  what  could  you  expect,"  said  the  enthusiastic  girl, 
"  when  she  has  those  wonderful  cheeks,  those  blazing  eyes, 
and  that  heavenly  smile  ?  Eunice,  if  you  do  not  take  her  to 
Antonio  with  us,  why,  Eunice,  I  shall  die  !  " 

The  garrison,  at  its  best,  furnished  twelve  ladies  —  con 
fessed  as  ladies  —  when  there  was  any  such  occasion  for 
festivity  as  this  evening.  Of  gentlemen,  as  at  all  military 
posts,  there  was  no  lack.  The  frontier  garrison  towns  of 
Mexico  presented  at  that  time  a  series  of  curious  contrasts. 
Gentlemen  of  the  best  training  of  Europe,  who  had  perhaps 
brought  with  them  ladies  of  the  highest  culture,  —  as  Gov. 
Herrara  had  at  this  very  time, —  were  stationed  for  years,  in 
the  discharge  of  the  poor  details  of  frontier  duty,  in  the 
midst  of  the  simplest  and  most  ignorant  people  in  Christen 
dom.  In  the  same  garrison  would  be  young  Mexican  gen 
tlemen  in  training  for  the  same  service,  not  deficient  in  the 
external  marks  of  a  gentleman,  but  without  any  other  culture 
than  training  in  the  details  of  tactics.  Between  the  wives 
was  a  broader  contrast,  perhaps,  than  between  the  husbands. 
Very  few  Mexican  ladies  of  the  Spanish  blood,  "  Creoles/' 
if  we  may  take  the  expression  of  the  day,  were  educated  for 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  IOJ 

any  conversation  with  intelligent  men,  or  expected  to  bear  a 
share  in.  it.  But  such  a  lady  as  Mme.  Herrara,  with  whom 
the  persevering  reader  of  these  pages  will  meet,  or  the 
Senora  Maria  Caberairi,  or  the  Senora  Marguerite  Valois, 
accustomed  to  the  usages  of  Europe,  lived  as  rational  beings; 
that  is,  they  received  visits,  and  discharged  the  duties  of  an 
elegant  hor.pitality.  Such  a  protest  against  the  Oriental 
seclusion,  which  perhaps  the  Moors  introduced  into  Spanish 
life,  whether  in  Old  Spain  or  in  New  Spain,  met  with  no 
favor  from  the  handsome,  indolent,  and  passive  ladies  who 
made  up  the  majority  of  garrison  society.  And  the  line  was 
marked  with  perfect  distinctness,  on  this  occasion,  between 
four  on  the  one  side  and  eight  on  the  other,  of  the  ladies 
who  attended  at  Donna  Isabella's  ball. 

This  contrast  added  greatly  to  the  lively  Inez's  enjoyment 
of  the  evening.  She  had  no  lack  of  good  partners,  only  too 
eager  to  take  her  out  to  the  minuet.  The  lively  girl  showed 
that  she,  at  least,  had  no  objection  to  talking  to  young  offi 
cers,  and  that  she  had  enough  to  say  to  them. 

"  Do  not  disgrace  your  duenna,"  said  Eunice  laughing,  as 
Inez  left  her  on  one  of  these  campaigns  of  conquest.  And 
Inez  said,  — 

"  Dearest  duenna,  if  I  could  only  use  a  fan  as  well  as  you 
do  !  " 

Harrod  said  to  Eunice  that  he  should  find  his  occupation 
gone,  now  that  there  was  a  little  army  of  Dons  and  hidaigos 
only  too  eager  to  take  charge  of  the  ladies  of  his  convoy. 
Indeed,  in  brilliancy  of  costume,  the  gentlemen  of  the  parry 
quite  held  their  own  in  comparison  with  even  the  French  and 
Spanish  toilets  of  the  ladies.  The  dragoons  wore  a  short 
blue  coat,  with  red  cape  and  cuffs,  with  small-clothes  of  blue 
velvet  always  open  at  the  knee.  Every  gentleman  brought 
with  him  a  tall  dress  hat,  such  as  the  modern  reader  associ 
ates  with  banditti  on  the  stage.  It  was  etiquette  to  bring 
this  even  into  the  ballroom,  because  the  ribbon  of  gay 
colors  with  which  it  was  bound  was  supposed  to  be  a  lady's 


102  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

gift  and  a  mark  of  gallantry.  Many  of  the  men  were  tall 
and  handsome,  and  you  would  have  said  that  dancing  and 
cards  were  the  only  business  of  their  lives. 

Although  Inez  had  spent  her  whole  Me  in  what  was  called 
a  Spanish  colony,  in  a  town  which  thought  much  of  itself, 
while  Nacogdoches  was  but  a  garrison  post,  she  had  never 
seen/  till  now,  any  of  the  peculiar  forms  of  Spanish  society. 
Orleans  held  its  head  very  high  in  the  social  way,  but  it  was 
as  a  French  city.  The  governors  and  their  courts  could 
make  no  head  against  the  proud  Gallicism  of  the  people 
they  found  there ;  and  French  travellers  said  with  pride  that 
Spaniards  were  "  Franrised"  but  Frenchmen  were  not  "  Es- 
panoled"  in  Orleans. 

The  minuet  was  at  that  moment  the  property  of  the  world. 
The  fandango  and  the  bolero  were  dances  Inez  had  never 
seen  before  ;  nor  would  she  have  shed  tears  if  she  had  been 
told  she  should  never  see  them  again.  The  White  I  lawk, 
who  joined  even  merrily  in  the  gayeties  of  the  evening, 
seemed  hurt  and  annoyed  at  the  intimacies  of  the  fandango, 
and  showed  that  she  was  glad  when  it  was  over.  None  of  the 
strangers,  indeed,  could  take  part  in  it ;  and  they  observed 
that  a  part  of  the  ladies  among  their  hosts  would  not  take 
part  in  it.  Naturally  enough,  the  talk  turned  on  national 
dances,  in  a  circle  of  such  varied  nationalities.  The  White 
Hawk  frankly  and  simply  performed  an  Apache  pas  de  seul 
for  the  surprise  and  amusement  of  her  hosts,  so  soon  as  she 
found  they  would  take  pleasure  from  it.  And  then,  after  a 
little  conference  with  Donna  Maria  and  her  husband,  and  a 
word  with  Col.  Rodriguez  the  commander  of  the  garrison,  one 
of  the  band-men  was  sent  out  to  bring  in  a  party  of  dancers 
from  the  vulgar  crowd  without,  who  would  show  a  pure  Mex 
ican  dance  to  the  visitors. 

This  was  the  dance  of  the  Matachines,  which  dates  back 
even  to  the  court  of  Montezuma.  A  boy,  gayly  dressed, 
rushed  in  with  his  bride :  these  were  Montezuma  and  Ma- 
linche.  The  girl's  rattle  took  the  place  of  the  castanets  of 


OR*   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  103 

the  fandango.  In  an  instant  more  the  other  dancers,  armed 
also  with  rattles,  followed  in  two  parallel  rows,  soon  breaking 
into  four ;  and  a  large  man  with  a  hideous  mask,  —  the  devil 
of  the  scene,  —  whip  in  hand,  ruled  the  pageant.  Nobody 
but  Montezuma  and  Malinche  escaped  his  blows. 

At  times  the  emperor  and  his  bride  sat  in  chairs  which 
were  placed  for  their  thrones,  and  received  from  the  other 
dancers  the  most  humble  protestations. 

Friar  Andre's  said  that  the  whole  was  typical  of  astro 
nomical  truths.  Perhaps  it  was.  I  remember  Margaret  Fuller 
once  told  me,  who  write  these  words,  what  the  quadrille 
called  "  pantalon  "  typified.  If  I  only  remembered  !  That 
is  the  figure  where  the  gentleman  leaves  his  partner  for  a 
while  in  captivity  on  the  other  side. 

Meanwhile  al1  the  men  were  not  occupied  in  minuets,  in 
fandangos,  in  boleros,  or  in  fanning  ladies.  Parties  of  offi 
cers,  not  inconsiderable,  sat  at  cards  in  the  card-rooms ;  and, 
if  one  could  judge  from  their  cries  now  and  then,  the  play 
was  exciting  and  high. 

In  such  amusements  the  "  dressed  day  "  came  to  a  close, 
and  it  stole  an  hour  even  from  the  day  of  departure. 


104  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS, 


CHAPTER  IX 

TALKING   AND   WALKING 
"  Such  noise  as  I  can  make  to  be  heard  farthest  I'll  venture."  —  MILTON. 

IT  was  decided  in  solemn  assembly,  the  next  morning,  that 
the  White  Hawk  should  join  the  party  of  travellers  for  San 
Antonio.  Donna  Isabella  had  seen  too  much  of  garrison  life 
to  wish  to  keep  the  girl  longer  than  was  necessary  at  a  post 
like  Nacogdoches.  Indeed,  if  she  ever  were  to  seek  her 
birthplace,  it  must  be  from  such  a  point  as  San  Antonio,  and 
not  from  a  garrison  town.  Eunice  and  Inez  gladly  took  the 
care  of  her ;  and  Col.  TreVifio  formally  prepared  a  new 
passport  which  should  describe  her  and  her  condition  also. 

"  I  have  added  your  name,  Mons.  Philippe,"  said  the 
hospitable  colonel.  "  I  see  you  joined  the  party  after  the 
marquis's  pass  was  filled.  Ah  me  !  the  marquis  is  growing 
a  little  drowsy,  after  all ! "  and  he  laughed  with  that  conceit 
with  which  a  rival  bureau  always  detects  errors  in  the  admin 
istration  of  the  establishment  "  over  the  way." 

And  so,  after  every  conceivable  delay,  innumerable  adios, 
and  commendations  to  the  Virgin,  the  little  party  started 
again.  To  the  last,  Blackburn,  Richards,  Adams,  and  King 
were  taken  for  granted  as  part  of  the  party.  They  asked  no 
questions  ;  and  the  colonel,  with  all  his  formalities,  never 
asked  them  where  they  joined  or  where  they  were  to  leave. 

With  no  prospect  of  other  detention  before  arriving  at  San 
Antonio,  they  all  pushed  out  into  what  was  very  nearly  desert 
country. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  105 

The  afternoon  was  well  advanced,  when  they  made  the 
halt  —  which  with  an  earlier  start  would  have  been  made 
earlier  —  for  a  rest  from  the  saddle,  and  to  give  the  beasts  a 
chance  for  food.  The  ladies  sat  on  their  shawls  a  little  away 
from  the  caravan  proper ;  and  Harrod,  with  some  help  from 
Ransom,  improvised  a  screen  from  the  wind  by  stretching 
his  own  blanket  above  some  stakes  driven  into  the  ground. 

The  first  care  had  been  to  send  notes  and  messages  to 
Capt.  Nolan,  who  was  supposed  to  be  not  far  away.  These 
were  intrusted  to  Blackburn,  and  to  old  Caesar,  whom  Black 
burn  had  persuaded  to  join  him  for  a  few  days.  After  their 
departure,  the  encampment  took  on  an  air  of  tranquil  repose. 

"  We  are  as  happy  as  Arabs,"  said  Inez. 

"  As  happy  as  Ma-ry  here  would  be  in  your  father's  salon 
on  the  plantation,"  said  Harrod.  "  Ask  her  if  she  sees  any 
thing  piquant  or  strange  in  lunching  alfresco  here." 

"  Ask  her,"  said  Eunice,  "  what  she  makes  of  Ransom's 
Boston  crackers,  and  whether  she  would  rather  have  a  rabbit 
d.  la  mesquit." 

"  All,  well !  "  said  Harrod,  "  the  rarity  of  the  thing  is  all 
very  well  ;  but,  when  Miss  Inez  here  has  lunched  twenty  days 
more  alfresco,  she  will  be  glad  to  find  herself  in  her  aunt's 
inner  chamber  "  — 

"  As  Ma-ry  will,  after  twenty  days  of  the  salon  life,  to 
find  herself  on  a  mustang  horse,  riding  after  antelopes."  said 
Inez,  this  time  sadly. 

"  Miss  Inez,  I  do  not  believe  a  word  of  it." 

"A  word  of  what?" 

"  Of  what  you  are  afraid  of,  —  that  this  girl  has  become  a 
child  of  the  forest,  and  is  going  to  love  mustangs  and  ante 
lopes  and  mesquit-bushes  and  grilled  rabbits,  more  than  she 
will  love  books  and  guitars  and  the  church  and  a  Christian 
home.  Blood  is  a  good  deal  thicker  than  water,  Miss  Inez ; 
and  blood  will  tell." 

"  Seventeen  years  go  a  good  way,  Mr.  Harrod  ;  and  she 
must  be  as  old  as  I  am,"  said  Inez,  as  if  she  herself  were 
the  person  of  most  experience  in  this  world. 


106  r  HI  LIP  NOLAN'S  I'RIENDS; 

"  But  seventeen  centuries  go  farther,"  said  he ;  "  And  I  may 
say  eighteen,  lacking  two  months,  I  believe.  Oh,  Miss  Inez ! 
trust  a  man  who  has  seen  white  skins,  and  black  skins,  and 
red  skins,  and  olive  skins,  and  skins  so  dirty  that  they  had 
no  color.  Trust  me  who  speak  to  you.  If  the  sins  of  the 
fathers  go  to  the  children  for  the  third  and  fourth  genera- 
lion,"  —  there  was  no  banter  in  his  tone  now ;  but  all  ihis 
was  in  serious  earnest,  —  "  shall  not  the  virtues  of  the  moth 
ers,  and  their  loves,  and  even  their  fancies  and  their  tastes  ? 
Shall  not  their  faith  and  hope,  shall  not  their  prayer,  have  a 
hold  deeper  than  a  little  calico  or  flannel  ?  Does  not  your 
commandment  say,  'through  all  generations  for  those  who 
love  Him  ? '  and  do  you  not  suppose  that  means  something  ?  " 

It  was  the  first  time  Harrod  had  spoken  with  ouite  this 
earnestness  of  feeling.  To  Eunice  it  was  not  unexpected, 
however.  She  had  seen,  from  his  first  salute  at  the  encamp 
ment,  that  he  was  every  inch  a  man.  To  Inez  there  was  all 
the  satisfaction  which  comes  to  every  girl  of  yesterday  when 
some  person  of  insight  sees  that  she  is  a  woman  to-day.  The 
change  from  boy  to  man  takes  years,  and  is  marked  by  a 
thousand  slow  graduations.  The  change  from  girl  to  woman 
is  well-nigh  immediate.  But  the  woman  just  born  cannot 
scream  out,  "The  world  is  all  changed  to  me.  Why  will 
you  talk  to  me. as  if  I  were  playing  with  my  doll?"  All  the 
same  is  she  grateful  to  him  or  her  who  finds  out  this  change  ; 
and  so  Inez  was  grateful  to  William  Harrod  now. 

"  You  see,"  said  Harrod,  "  I  was  born  close  to  the  frontier  ; 
and  since  I  can  remember  I  have  been  on  it  and  of  it.  Dear 
old  Daniel  Boone  —  have  you  ever  'hearn  tell'  of  him,  Miss 
Perry  ?  —  dear  old  Daniel  Boone,  many  is  the  time  that  he 
has  spent  the  weeks  of  a  winter  storm  and  clearing  at  my 
father's  ;  and  many  is  the  tramp  that  I  have  taken  with  him 
and  with  his  sons.  I  fired  his  rifle  before  I  was  ten  years 
old.  Yes ;  and  I  have  seen  this  thing  always.  Why  1  when 
I  was  a  little  boy  I  have  seen  our  dear  Elder  Brainerd  take 
these  savage  boys,  and  be  good  to  them,  and  helpful,  and  let 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS,'  107 

them  cheat  him  and  lie  to  him ;  and  since  then  I  have  seen 
them  go  off  like  hawks  when  they  smelt  carrion.  And  I  have 
seen — well,  I  have  seen  Daniel  Boone,  who  had  slept  under 
the  sky  as  they  sleep,  had  starved  as  they  starve,  had  frozen 
as  they  freeze ;  and  he  would  come  to  my  dear  mother's 
table  as  perfect  and  finished  a  gentleman  as  there  is  in 
Orleans  or  Paris.  Dear  Miss  Perry,  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
race,  and  blood  does  tell." 

"  And  I  hope  it  tells  in  something  better  than  choice  of 
places  to  lunch  in,"  said  Inez. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  the  young  fellow,  who  was  on  one  of 
his  hobbies  now.  "  You  shall  see  that  your  pretty  Ma-ry 
will  be  a  lady  of  the  land,  if  you  can  once  see  her  in  hei 
land.  As  for  these  Greasers,  I  do  not  know  that  I  rate  them 
as  of  much  more  help  to  her  than  so  many  Caddoes  or 
Apaches.  Oh,  dear !  how  I  hate  them  ! "  and  he  laughed 
heartily. 

"  Pray  do  not  say  so  to  Inez,"  said  her  aunt.  "  You  do 
not  guess  yet  how  hard  I  find  it  to  make  her  loyal  to  her 
sovereign." 

"Most  estimable  of  duennas,"  cried  Inez,  "pray  do  not 
say  that  again  for  a  week.  Let  me  mildly  represent  to  your 
grace,  that  your  unsuspected  loyalty  to  the  most  gracious  of 
masters,  and  to  the  loveliest  of  queens,  has  led  you  to  make 
this  protest  daily,  since  her  Majesty's  sacred  birthday — 
blessed  be  her  gracious  life  and  her  sweet  memory !  — recalled 
to  your  lovelir.ess's  recollection  you  duty  to  your  honored 
sovereign.  There,  you  darling  old  tease,  can  I  not  do  it  as 
well  as  you  can  ?  And  do  not  the  adjectives  and  compli 
ments  roll  out  rather  more  graciously  in  the  language  of 
Squam  Bay  than  even  in  the  glorious  Castilian  itself  ?  Oh, 
dear !  I  wish  I  could  set  Ransom  to  translate  one  of  the 
Bishop's  prelections  on  royalty  into  genuine  Yankee." 

"  Do  it  yourself,"  said  Harrod,  who  was  rapidly  gaining 
all  Nolan's  enthusiasm  for  the  old  man. 

And  Inez  attempted  a  rapid  imitation. 


Io8  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"There,"  said  she,  "it  is  the  day  of  our  Lad)  of  the 
Sacred  Torch  ;  and,  by  a  miraculous  coincidence,  it  happens 
also  to  be  the  day  of  the  Santissima  Luisa,  the  patron  saint 
of  my  beloved,  most  honored,  and  never-to-be-forgotten  queen 
and  sovereign  lady.  And,  as  the  bishop  rides  to  the  cathe 
dral,  by  a  great  misfortune  the  wheels  of  the  carriage  of  the 
most  right  reverend  and  best-beloved  father  come  off  in  the 
fosse  or  ditch  just  in  front  of  the  palace  of  the  governor  of 
my  most  gracious  sovereign  Charles  the  Fourth,  and  the  holy 
father  is  thrown  forward  into  the  mud." 

"  Inez,  you  shall  not  run  on  so." 

"  Dear  duenna,  hold  your  peace  :  I  shall  and  I  will.  And 
all  shall  be  said  decently  and  in  order. 

"  Word  is  carried  of  the  misfortune  to  the  cathedral,  where 
Ransom  is  waiting  in  the  sacristy,  with  a  note  from  Miss 
Eunice  Perry,  heretic  though  she  be,  and  fated  to  be  burned 
when  her  time  comes,  inviting  the  most  reverend  and  beloved 
father  to  dinner.  Ransom  observes  the  dangers  to  the  elect, 
should  the  prolocution  in  honor  of  my  gracious  and  never-to- 
be-forgotten  queen  be  omitted.  By  a  happy  instinct  he  slips 
off  his  white  jacket,  and  with  grace  and  ease  slips  on  the 
tunic,  which  seems  to  him  most  to  resemble  the  Calvinistic 
gown  of  his  childhood ;  and  then,  preceded  by  acolytes,  and 
followed  by  thurifers,  he  mounts  to  the  pulpit,  just  as  the 
faithful  are  turning  away  disappointed,  and  says,  — 

"  '  It's  all  nonsense,  'n  I  told  the  biship  so,  last  time  I  see 
hira.  I  says,  says  I,  them  hubs  to  the  wheel  of  your  coach 
ain't  fit  for  nothin',  they  ain't ;  and  ef  you  will  ride  in  it  you'll 
break  down  some  day,  an'  good  enough  for  you.  '  N  now  he 
has  broke  down,  jest  as  I  told  him  he  wou'd,  'n  he  can'* 
preach  the  queen's  sermon.  I  tell  you  the  queen  ain't  much, 
but  she's  a  sight  better  than  you  deserve,  any  on  you.  Ys 
ain't  fit  to  have  a  queen,  none  on  ye  ;  ye  don't  know  nothin', 
rn  ye  don't  know  what  a  real  good  queen  is.  Ye'd  git  more'n 
ye've  got  any  rights  to,  ef  ye  had  old  George  the  Third,  the 
beggar ;  'n  he's  the  wust  king  that  ever  wos,  or  ever  will  be 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  i°9 

The  queen's  birthday  is  to-day,  so  they  sez ;  but  tht  y's  all 
liars,  and  don't  know  nothin',  as  how  should  they,  seein' 
they's  all  Catholics  and  niggers  together,  and  ain't  learned 
nothin'  ?  I  tell  the  biship  they  ain't  no  good  preachin'  to  such 
a  crew  as  you  be  ;  but,  becos  he  can't  come  himself,  I've  come 
to  tell  ye  all  ye  may  go  home.'  " 

"  Inez,  you  shall  not  run  on  so,"  said  Eunice,  really  pro 
voked  that  the  girl,  who  had  so  much  deep  feeling  in  her 
should  sweep  into  such  arrant  nonsense. 

"  Dearest  Aunt  Eunice,  you  are  afraid  that  I  shall  lose  my 
reputation  in  the  eyes  of  dear  White  Hawk  and  of  Mr.  Har- 
rod.  Would  you  perhaps  be  so  kind  as  to  preach  the  queen's 
sermon  yourself  ? " 

"  That  is  a  way  she  has,  Mr.  Harrod ;  and  I  recommend 
it  to  you,  if  you  are  ever  so  fortunate  as  to  have  the  educa 
tion  of  a  young  lady  of  seventeen  intrusted  to  you." 

"This  dear  Aunt  Eunice  of  mine,  who  is  the  loveliest  and 
kindest  duenna  that  ever  was  in  this  world,  if  I  do  say  so, 
she  will  rebuke  me  for  my  sins,  because  I  do  not  sin  to  please 
her ;  and  then  she  will  set  the  example  of  the  way  the  thing 
ought  to  be  done. 

"  For  instance :  suppose  I  am  tempted  by  the  spirit  of 
evil  to  imitate  the  Donna  Dulcinea  del  Tobago,  I  call  her, 
because  her  husband,  the  chief  justice,  smokes  all  daylong; 
suppose  I  am  tempted  to  imitate  her,  —  I  sit  down  at  my 
piano-forte,  and  I  just  begin,  — 

'  Oh,  happy  souls  !  by  death  at  length  set  free,' 

when  my  dear  aunt  says,  '  You  shall  not  do  so,  Inez :  it  is 
very  wrong.'  And  then  I  begin  again,  and  she  says,  'Inez, 
it  is  very  improper.'  And  then,  if  I  begin  a  third  time,  she 
says,  'Inez,  if  you  will  do  any  thing  so  absurd,  pray  do  it 
correctly.  Let  me  sit  there.  I  will  show  you  how  she  sings 
it ; '  and  then  she  makes  the  Donna  Dulcinea  ten  times  as 
absurd  as  I  could,  because  she  has  heard  her  ten  times  as 


no  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

often.  —  You  are  the  dearest  old  aunt  that  ever  was,  and  I 
am  the  worst  tease  that  ever  was  born." 

And  she  flung  herself  on  the  neck  of  her  aunt,  and  kissed 
her  again  and  again. 

Meanwhile  the  White  Hawk  sat  amused  beyond  expres 
sion,  and  mystified  quite  as  much  by  what  was  ^o  her  only 
a  pantomime,  in  which  she  could  not  make  out  one  term  in 
ten. 

As  Inez  ceased  her  eulogy,  she  looked  around  upon  the 
;irl,  and  caught  the  roguish  twinkle  of  her  eye,  and  could 
not  but  turn  to  her,  and  kiss  her  as  eagerly  as  she  had  kissed 
ler  aunt,  though  from  a  sentiment  wholly  different. 

For  both  these  ladies  watched  the  White  Hawk  with  the 
Reeling  with  which  you  would  watch  an  infant,  mingled  with 
i hat  with  which  you  regard  a  woman.  "What  does  she  think  ? 
j  fow  does  this  all  seem  ?  What  would  she  say  if  she  could 
soeak  to  us?" 

The  range  of  her  pantomime,  and  the  spirit  and  truth  of 
Rarrod's  interpretation  of  it,  were  enough  to  express  things, 
ana  to  make  them  feel,  just  up  to  a  certain  point,  that  hert 
was  a  woman  closely  tied  to  them,  sympathizing  with  them, 
as  they,  indeed,  with  her.  But  where  things  stopped,  and 
ideas  began,  —  just  where  they  wanted  language  most, — 
language  stopped  for  them,  and  White  Hawk  seemed  like  a 
child  of  whose  resources  even  they  knew  nothing.  It  was  a 
comfort  to  Inez  to  overwhelm  her  with  this  storm  of  kisses, 
and  a  comfort  to  the  other  also. 

"  She  must  learn  to  speak  to  us.  And,  while  we  are  on  the 
trail  here,  she  shall  learn  her  own  language.  We  will  not 
make  her  talk  about  your  '  loftiness/  and  your  '  serenity,' 
Miss  Eunice." 

"  Dear,  dear  Ma-ry,"  said  the  girl,  turning  to  her  again, 
and  speaking  very  slowly,  as  if  that  would  help,  "  do  say 
something  to  me.  Talk  baby-talk,  dear  Ma-ry." 

And  then  she  tried  her  with  "  ma-ma  ; "  and,  as  before,  it 
was  very  certain  that  "  Ma-ry  "  knew  what  these  syllables 


OX,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  xii 

meant.  And  with  a  wild  eagerness  she  would  listen  to  what 
Inez  said  to  her,  and  then  would  try  to  form  words  like 
Inez's  words.  Perhaps  she  had  seme  lingering  memory  of 
what  her  mother  had  taught  her ;  but  the  words  would  not 
come. 

"Then,  if  I  cannot  teach  you,  you  shall  teach  me,  dear 
Ma-ry."  And  so  the  two  girls  began,  with  Harrod's  aid,  to 
work  out  the  chief  central  signs  of  the  language  of  panto 
mime  ;  and,  when  Inez  found  her  chance,  she  would  make 
"  Ma-ry  "  repeat  in  English  this  word  or  that,  which  the  girl 
caught  quickly.  The  readiness  of  her  organs  for  this  speech 
was  enough  to  show  that  she  had  had  some  training  in  it 
\\hen  she  was  yet  very  young. 

In  this  double  schooling  the  girls  passed  the  afternoon, 
for  many  miles  after  they  were  all  in  the  saddle  again. 
Indeed,  it  became  occupation  and  amusement  for  all  the 
leaders  of  the  party  for  day  after  day  in  their  net  very  event 
ful  journey.  Their  fortune  did  not  differ  from  that  of  most 
travellers  in  such  an  expedition.  The  spirit  and  freshness 
of  an  open-air  life  lifted  them  well  over  the  discomforts  of  a 
beginning ;  and  when  the  bivouac,  the  trail,  and  the  forest 
began  to  be  an  old  story,  the  experience  gained  in  a  thou 
sand  details  made  compensation  for  the  lack  of  novelty  and 
consequent  excitement.  For  some  days  from  Nacogdoches, 
the  trail  led  them  through  woods,  only  occasionally  broken 
by  little  prairies.  A  little  Spanish  post  at  the  Trinity  River, 
and  once  or  twice  the  humble  beginnings  of  some  settler  on 
ihe  trail,  vary  the  yellow  pages  of  poor  little  Inez's  diary. 
But  the  party  were  beginning  to  grow  reckless,  in  comparison 
with  their  caution  at  the  outset, — reckless  merely  because 
they  had  been  so  favored  in  the  weather  and  in  the  monoto 
nous  safety  of  their  march,  —  when  they  were  recalled,  only 
too  suddenly,  to  the  sense  of  the  danger  which  always  hangs 
over  such  travellers  in  the  wilderness. 

Harrod  had  sent  on  his  men  in  advance,  as  had  come  to 
be  the  custom,  with  directions  to  select  the  position  for  the 


1T2  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

ramp,  and  have  the  ladies'  tents  ready  before  the  caravan 
proper  arrived.  Adams  and  Richards  found  that  a  bayou 
known  as  the  Little  Brasses  was  so  swollen  that  the  passage 
would  be  perhaps  circuitous  and  certainly  difficult,  and,  with 
fit  discretion,  fixed  their  camp  on  high  land  above  the  water's 
edge,  although  by  this  location  the  party  made  a  march 
shorter  by  an  hour  than  was  usual.  Nobody  complained, 
however,  of  the  early  release  from  the  saddle,  the  two  young 
people  least  of  all.  A  few  minutes  were  enough  for  them  to 
refit  themselves ;  and  there  was  then  half  an  hour  left  before 
the  late  dinner  or  early  supper — now  called  by  one  name, 
and  now  by  another  —  which  always  closed  the  day. 

Harrod's  directions  were  absolute,  and  Ransom's  as  well, 
that  there  should  be  no  straggling,  not  the  least,  from  the 
camp  ;  and  the  girls  were  least  inclined  of  any  to  disregard 
them.  Certainly  poor  little  Inez  had  no  thought  of  disobedi 
ence,  when  she  pointed  out  to  Harrod  a  little  knoll,  hardly 
five  rods  from  where  they  stood,  and  said  to  him  that  it  must 
command  a  better  view  of  the  bayou  than  they  had  at  the 
camp  itself,  and  she  would  try  once  again  if  she  could  make 
any  manner  of  sketch  there,  which  would  serve  as  a  sugges 
tion  of  the  journey  to  her  father.  For  both  Eunice  and  Inez 
had  cultivated  some  little  talent  they  had  in  this  way ;  and 
besides  the  fiddle-faddle  in  work  on  ivory,  which  was  a  not 
unusual  accomplishment  for  French  ladies  in  their  time,  each 
of  them  had  tried  to  train  herself  —  and  Eunice  had  with 
some  success  trained  Inez  —  in  drawing,  in  the  open  air, 
from  nature.  In  the  close  forest  of  the  first  few  days  from 
Nacogdoches,  Inez  had  found  few  opportunities  for  her  little 
sketch-book  ;  and  Harrod  encouraged  her  in  her  proposal 
now,  and  promised  to  join  her  so  soon  as  the  horses  were  all 
unpacked  and  fitly  tethered  for  the  night. 

Inez  sat  there  for  a  minute,  made  the  notes  in  her  diary 
(which  in  yellow  ink  on  yellow  paper  still  appear  on  that 
page),  and  then  left  the  book  open  while  she  ran  down  to  the 
edge  of  the  bayou  to  fill  the  water-bottle  of  her  paint-box. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS:'  113 

She  was  surprised  and  interested  to  see  the  variety  of  the 
footmarks  of  the  different  beasts  who  had  come  to  the  same 
spot  before  her  for  drink.  A  large  log  of  a  fallen  tree  lay 
over  the  water ;  and  the  fearless  girl,  who  was  not  without 
practice  in  such  gymnastics  in  her  plantation  life,  ran  out 
upon  it  to  fill  her  little  flask  with  water  as  clear  as  she  could 
find. 

Here  her  view  up  and  down  the  little  lake — for  lake  it 
seemed  —  widened  on  each  side.  The  sky  was  clouded  so 
that  Inez  lost  the  lights  of  the  afternoon  sun,  but  still  it  was 
a  scene  of  wonderful  beauty.  The  di.rk  shadows,  crimson 
and  scarlet,  of  the  autumn  foliage,  the  tall,  clear-cut  oak, 
whose  lines  were  so  sharp  against  the  sky,  were  all  perfectly 
reflected  in  the  water,  with  a  distinctness  so  vivid  that  she 
had  only  to  bend  her  head,  and  look  under  her  arm,  to  make 
the  real  heavens  seem  the  deception,  and  the  reflection  the 
reality.  From  the  distance  her  attention  was  gradually  called 
to  her  own  shore :  a  great  water-snake  poked  his  head  above 
the  water,  and  really  seemed  to  look  at  her  for  a  moment, 
then  with  an  angry  flash  broke  the  smooth  surface  for  a 
moment,  and  plunged  out  of  sight.  Great  bunches  of  water- 
grapes  hung  near  her ;  bright  leaves  of  persimmon,  red  oak 
and  red  bay,  swamp  oak  and  tupelo,  were  all  around  her,  and 
tempted  her  to  make  a  little  bouquet  for  the  supper-table. 
Her  quarters  in  the  branches  of  the  fallen  tree  were  not 
extensive.  But  the  girl  was  active,  and  was  diligently  cull 
ing  her  various  colors,  when  her  eye  caught  sight  in  the 
water  of  a  treasure  she  had  coveted  since  she  met  the  Caddo 
Indians,  —  the  great  seed-vessels,  namely,  of  the  gigantic 
water-lily  of  those  regions,  the  Nelumbo  lutea,  or  sacred 
"  bean  of  India." 

Were  th»;/  beyond  reach?  If  they  were,  Ransom  would 
come  do~n  for  her  in  a  minute  in  the  morning,  before  they 
started.  But,  if  she  had  not  this  provoking  hat  and  shawl 
on,  could  she  not  clamber  down  to  the  water's  edge  among 
the  small  branches,  and  with  a  stick  break  them  off  so  they 


I14  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

could  be  floated  in  ?  It  was  worth  the  trial.  And  so  the 
girl,  hung  up  the  offending  hat  with  the  shawl,  broke  off 
the  strongest  bough  she  could  manage,  and  descended  to  the 
water's  edge  again  for  her  foraging. 

It  took  longer  than  she  meant,  for  the  rattles  were  very 
provoking.  Rattles,  be  it  said,  these  great  seed-vessels  are, 
in  the  Indian  economies  ;  and  it  was  for  rattles  in  dancing 
that  Miss  Inez  thought  them  so  well  worth  collecting.  But, 
with  much  pulling  and  hauling,  three  of  them  consented  to 
loosen  themselves  from  their  anchorage,  and,  to  Inez's  de 
light,  began  to  float  slowly  across  to  the  other  side  of  her 
little  cove.  Now  she  had  only  to  run  around  there,  and 
secure  her  prizes.  But  as  she  turned  to  recover  her  hat  and 
shawl,  and  to  work  shoreward  with  her  not-forgotten  bouquet, 
looking  out  through  the  bushes  upon  the  little  opening  in  the 
shrubbery  which  had  been  her  path,  the  girl  saw  what  she 
knew  in  an  instant  must  be  the  gigantic  Texas  panther, 
quietly  walking  down  to  the  water,  with  two  little  cubs 
at  its  side.  Inez  was  frightened  :  of  that  there  is  no  doubt. 
And  to  herself  she  owned  she  was  frightened.  She  would 
have  been  frightened  had  she  met  the  beast  on  the  travelled 
trail ;  but  here  the  panther  had  her  at  disadvantage.  She 
had,  however,  the  presence  of  mind  to  utter  no  sound.  If 
the  panther  had  not  made  her  out  hidden  in  the  shrubbery, 
she  would  not  call  his  attention.  Would  he  be  good  enough 
to  lap  his  water,  and  go  his  way,  perhaps  ? 

So  she  waited,  her  heart  in  her  mouth,  not  daring  to  wink, 
as  she  looked  through  the  little  opening  in  the  tupelo  beside 
her.  These,  then,  were  the  footmarks  which  she  had  been 
wondering  about,  and  had  thought  might  be  the  ~rints 
of  bears.  Bears,  indeed  !  Much  did  she  know  of  bears  ! 
Would  the  creature  never  be  done  ?  What  did  she  know 
about  panthers  ?  Did  panthers  drink  enough  for  nine  days, 
iike  camels  ?  At  last  the  panther  had  drunk  enough  —  and 
the  little  panthers.  But  then  another  process  began.  They 
all  had  to  make  their  ablutions.  If  Inez  had  not  been 


INEZ    HAS    AN    ADVENTURE. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  u», 

wretched  she  could  have  laughed  to  see  the  giant  beast  lap 
ping  her  paws,  just  as  her  dear  old  Florinda  did  at  home,  and 
purring  its  approval  over  the  little  wretches,  as  they  did  the 
same.  But  now  she  had  rather  cry  than  laugh.  Should  she 
have  to  stay  here  all  night  ?  Had  she  better  stay  all  night, 
or  risk  every  thing  by  a  cry  that  they  could  hear  at  camp  • 
Would  they  hear  her  at  the  camp  if  she  did  cry  ? 

There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  poor  girl  was  left 
*wenty  minutes  in  her  enforced  silence,  stiff  with  the  posture 
in  which  she  stood,  and  cold  with  fear  and  with  the  night 
mist  which,  even  before  the  sun  went  down,  began  to  creep 
up  from  the  bayou ;  but  it  seemed  to  her  twenty  hours,  and 
well  it  might.  Still  it  did  not  last  forever.  The  cubs  at 
last  finished  washing  the  last  claw  of  the  last  leg ;  and  the  old 
lady  panther,  or  old  gentleman,  whichever  the  sex  may  have 
been,  seemed  satisfied  that  here  was  no  place  for  spending 
the  night.  Perhaps  some  rustle  in  the  shrubbery  gave  sign 
of  game.  Any  way,  without  noise,  the  great  beast  turned  on 
its  tracks,  paused  a  moment,  and  then  made  one  great  bound 
inland,  followed  by  the  little  ones.  Inez  had  some  faith  left 
in  her  in  the  power  of  the  human  voice ;  and  she  did  her  best 
to  stimulate  their  flight  by  one  piercing  scream,  which  she 
changed  into  a  war-whoop,  according  to  the  best  directions 
which  White  Hawk  had  given  her,  —  a  feminine  war-whoop, 
a  war-whoop  of  the  soprano  or  treble  variety,  but  still  a 
war-whoop.  As  such  it  was  received  apparently  by  the 
panthers,  who  made  no  tarry,  but  were  seen  no  more. 

Inez  hastened  to  avail  herself  of  her  victory.  Hat  and 
shawl  were  recovered.  Firmly  and  quickly  she  extricated 
herself  from  the  labyrinth  of  boughs  of  the  fallen  cotton  wood 
tree,  and  almost  ran,  in  her  nervous  triumph,  along  its  trunk 
to  the  shore.  Up  the  beaten  pathway  she  ran,  marking  now 
the  fresh  impression  of  the  beasts'  tracks  before  her.  Once 
and  again  she  cried  aloud,  hoping  that  she  might  be  heard 
in  the  camp.  She  had  left,  and  remembered  she  had  left, 
her  note  book  and  her  sketch-book  on  the  knoll.  But  they 


Il6  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

might  go.  For  herself,  the  sight  of  the  tents  was  all  in  all , 
and  she  tarried  from  the  path  she  followed  as  she  came  down, 
all  the  more  willingly  because  she  saw  the  panthers  had  fol 
lowed  it  also,  to  run  along  the  broader  way,  better  marked, 
which  kept  upon  the  level  to  the  beaten  trail  of  travel. 

"  Broader  way,  and  better  marked."  Oh,  Inez,  Inez  !  broad 
is  the  way  that  leads  to  destruction  ;  and  how  many  simple 
wood-farers,  nay,  how  many  skilled  in  wood-craft,  have 
remembered  this  text  when  it  was  too  late  to  profit  by  it ! 
Three  minutes  were  enough  to  show  the  girl  that  this  better- 
marked  track  did  not  lead  to  the  travelled  trail.  It  turned 
off  just  as  it  should  not  do,  and  it  clung  to  the  bayou.  This 
would  never  do.  They  would  miss  her  at  the  tents,  and  be 
frightened.  Panther  or  no  panther,  she  would  go  up  over 
the  knoll.  So  she  turned  back  on  her  steps,  and  began  to 
run  now,  because  she  knew  how  nervous  her  aunt  would  be. 
And  again  the  girl  shouted  cheerily,  called  on  the  highest 
key,  and  sounded  her  newly  learned  war-whoop. 

But,  as  she  ran,  the  path  confused  her.  Could  she  have 
passed  that  flaming  sassafras  without  so  much  as  noticing  it  r 
Any  way,  she  should  recognize  the  great  mass  of  bays  where 
she  had  last  noticed  the  panthers'  tracks.  She  had  seen 
them  as  she  ran  down,  and  as  she  came  up.  She  hurried  on  ; 
but  she  certainly  had  returned  much  farther  than  she  went, 
when  she  came  out  on  a  strange  log  flung  up  in  some  freshet, 
which  she  knew  she  had  not  seen  before.  And  there  was  no 
clump  of  bays.  Was  this  being  lost?  Was  she  lost? 

Why,  Inez  had  to  confess  to  herself,  that  she  was  lost 
just  a  little  bit,  but  nothing  to  be  afraid  of ;  but  still  lost 
enough  to  talk  about  afterwards,  she  certainly  was. 

Yet,  as  she  said  to  herself  again  and  again,  she  could  not 
be  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  nor  half  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  from 
camp.  As  soon  as  they  missed  her,  —  and  by  this  time  they 
had  missed  her,  —  they  would  be  out  to  look  for  her.  How 
provoking  that  she,  of  all  the  party,  should  make  so  much 
bother  to  the  rest !  They  would  watch  her  now  like  so  many 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  117 

cats  all  the  rest  of  the  way.  What  a  fool  she  was  ever  to 
leave  the  knoll ! 

So  Inez  stopped  again,  shouted  again,  and  listened,  and 
listened,  to  hear  nothing  but  a  swamp-owl. 

If  the  sky  had  been  clear,  she  would  have  had  i£o  cause 
for  anxiety.  In  that  case  they  would  have  light  enough  to 
find  her  in.  She  would  have  had  the  sunset  glow  to  steer  by ; 
and  she  would  have  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  them.  But, 
with  this  horrid  gray  over  every  thing,  she  dared  not  turn 
round,  without  fearing  that  she  might  lose  the  direction  in 
which  the  theory  of  the  moment  told  her  she  ought  to  be 
faring.  And  these  openings  which  she  had  called  trails  — 
which  were  probably  broken  by  wild  horses  and  wild  oxen  as 
they  came  down  to  the  bayou  to  drink  —  would  not  go  in  one 
direction  for  ten  paces.  They  bent  right  and  left,  this  way 
and  that ;  so  that,  without  some  sure  token  of  sun  or  star,  it 
was  impossible,  as  Inez  felt,  to  know  which  way  she  was 
walking. 

And  at  last,  as  this  perplexity  increased,  she  was  conscious 
that  the  sun  must  have  set,  and  that  the  twilight,  never  long, 
was  now  fairly  upon  her.  All  the  time  there  was  this  fearful 
silence,  only  broken  by  her  own  voice,  and  that  hateful  owl. 
Was  she  wise  to  keep  on  in  her  theories  of  this  way  or  that 
way  ?  She  had  never  yet  come  back,  either  upon  the  fallen 
cottonwood  tree,  or  upon  the  bunch  of  bays  which  was  her 
landmark ;  and  it  was  doubtless  her  wisest  determination  to 
stay  where  she  was.  The  chances  that  the  larger  party  would 
find  her  were  much  greater  than  that  she  alone  would  find 
them  ;  but  by  this  time  she  was  sure  that,  if  she  kept  on  in 
any  direction,  there  was  an  even  chance  that  she  was  going 
farther  and  farther  wrong. 

But  it  was  too  cold  for  her  to  sit  down,  wrap  herself  never 
so  closely  in  her  shawl.  The  poor  girl  tried  this.  She  must 
keep  in  motion.  Back  and  forth  she  walked,  fixing  her  march 
by  signs  which  she  could  not  mistake,  even  in  the  gathering 
darkness.  How  fast  that  darkness  gathered !  The  wind 


il8  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

seemed  to  rise,  too,  as  the  night  came  on  ;  and  a  fine  rain,  that 
seemed  as  cold  as  snow  to  her,  came  to  give  the  last  drop  to 
her  wretchedness.  If  she  were  tempted  for  a  moment  to 
abandon  her  sentry  beat,  and  try  this  wild  experiment  or  that 
to  the  right  or  left,  some  odious  fallen  trunk,  wet  with  moss 
and  decay,  lay  just  where  she  pressed  in  to  the  shrubbery,  as  if 
placed  there  to  reveal  to  her  her  absolute  powerlessness.  She 
was  dead  with  cold,  and  even  in  all  her  wretchedness  knew 
that  she  was  hungry.  How  stupid  to  be  hungry  when  she 
had  so  much  else  to  trouble  her !  But  at  least  she  would 
make  a  system  of  her  march.  She  would  walk  fifty  times 
this  way,  to  the  stump,  and  fifty  times  that  way ;  then  she 
would  stop,  and  cry  out,  and  sound  her  war-whoop  ;  then 
she  would  take  up  her  sentry  march  again.  And  so  she  did. 
This  way,  at  least,  time  would  not  pass  without  her  knowing 
whether  it  were  near  midnight  or  no. 

"  Hark  !  God  be  praised,  there  is  a  gun  !  and  there  is  an 
other  !  and  there  is  another !  They  have  come  on  the  right 
track,  and  I  am  safe  ! "  So  she  shouted  again,  and  sounded 
her  war-whoop  again,  and  listened,  —  and  then  again,  and 
listened  again.  One  more  gun !  but  then  no  more !  Poor 
Inez !  Certainly  they  were  all  on  one  side  of  her.  If  only  it 
were  not  so  piteously  dark !  If  she  could  only  work  half  the 
distance  in  that  direction  which  her  fifty  sentry  beats  made 
put  together !  But  when  she  struggled  that  way  through  the 
tangle,  and  over  one  wet  log  and  another,  it  was  only  to  find 
her  poor  wet  feet  sinking  down  into  mud  and  water !  She 
did  not  dare  keep  on.  All  that  was  left  for  her  was  to  find 
her  tramping  ground  again ;  and  this  she  did. 

"  Good  God,  take  care  of  me  !  My  poor  dear  father,  — 
what  would  he  say  if  he  knew  his  child  was  dying  close 
to  her  friends  ?  Dear  mamma,  keep  watch  over  your  little 
girl!" 


OR,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS 


CHAPTER  X. 

LIFE  ON   THE   BRASSOS. 

"  As  yet  a  colt  he  stalks  with  lofty  pace, 
And  balances  his  limbs  with  flexile  grace ; 
First  leads  the  way,  the  threatening  torrent  braves, 
And  dares  the  unknown  arch  that  spans  the  waves. 
Light  on  his  airy  crest  his  slender  head, 
His  belly  short,  his  loins  luxuriant  spread ; 
Muscle  on  muscle  knots  his  brawny  breast ; 
No  fear  alarms  him,  nor  vain  shouts  molest. 
But,  at  the  clash  of  arms,  his  ear  afar 
Drinks  the  deep  sound,  and  vibrates  to  the  war  ; 
Flames  from  each  nostril  roll  in  gathered  stream  ; 
His  quivering  limbs  with  restless  motion  gleam ; 
O'er  his  right  shoulder,  floating  full  and  fair, 
Sweeps  his  thick  mane,  and  spreads  its  pomp  of  hair ; 
Swift  works  his  double  spine,  and  earth  around 
Rings  to  his  solid  hoof  that  wears  the  ground." 

SOTHHBY. 

BUT  it  is  time  that  this  history  should  return  from  tracing 
the  varying  fortunes  of  one  of  the  companies  of  Philip  Nolan's 
friends,  to  look  at  the  fortunes  of  that  other  company  whom 
he  had  himself  enlisted,  and  to  whom  he  had  returned  when 
he  left  Eunice  and  Inez,  in  care  of  Harrod  for  the  moment, 
near  the  ferry  of  the  Sabine  River. 

Had  we  diaries  as  full  of  these  movements  as  wj  have  of 
those  of  Eunice  and  Inez,  which  have  proved  of  less  account 
in  history,  this  chapter  might  take  fuller  proportions  than 
those  which  have  brought  those  ladies  to  the  waters  of  the 
Brasses  River.  It  proved  that  the  expedition  of  young  men 


120  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

led  by  Nolan,  from  Natchez  and  Texas,  was  destined  to  meet 
the  Spanish  army  in  array  of  battle.  Here  was  the  first  oi 
those  trials  of  strength  between  the  descendants  of  Cortez 
and  his  men  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  descendants  of  New 
Englanders  and  Virginians  on  the  other,  which  were  to  end 
in  the  independence  of  Texas  forty  years  after.  But  of  this 
expedition  we  have  now  scarcely  a  record,  —  none  excepting 
one  memoir  from  its  youngest  member,  as  drawn  up  by  him 
after  the  expiration  of  a  quarter  of  a  century.  Of  the  false 
and  crafty  pursuit  by  the  Spanish  forces,  the  archives  of 
Texas  and  Mexico  are  full.  The  Spanish  Armada  did  not 
cause  more  alarm  in  England  than  poor  Phil  Nolan's  horse- 
hunting  expedition  among  the  very  officers  who  had  given 
him  his  right  to  enter  their  territory. 

As  has  been  already  said,  the  party  gathered  at  Natchez, 
which  was  Nolan's  home,  so  far  as  a  man  of  affairs  like  him, 
a  man  of  so  many  languages  and  so  many  lands,  can  be  said 
to  have  had  one.  Natchez,  a  settlement  of  some  six  hundred 
persons,  was  now  an  American  town,  having  passed  under 
the  flag  of  the  United  States  a  year  or  two  before.  It  had 
been  founded  by  the  French,  however ;  and  the  Spanish 
Government  gave  up  the  administration  only  after  severe 
pressure,  and  indeed  with  riotous  disturbances  of  the  inhabit 
ants.  For  it  was  becoming  the  headquarters  of  the  Western 
race  of  men ;  and,  when  they  suspected  that  the  Spanish 
Government  was  slow  in  its  execution  of  the  treaty  which 
provided  for  the  surrender  of  Natchez  to  our  own  sway,  their 
indignation  knew  no  bounds.  In  such  a  community  as  this 
»t  is  not  difficult  to  fancy  the  feeling  excited  by  the  examina 
tion  of  Nolan  —  of  which  we  have  already  spoken  —  when 
Vidal,  the  Spanish  consul,  complained  that  he  was  about  to 
invade  the  territory  of  Mexico. 

Nolan  had,  in  fact,  enrolled  a  company  of  more  than  twenty 
anen  on  this  expedition  —  the  third  which  he  had  undertaken 
in  his  trading  for  wild  horses.  It  was  admitted  on  all  hands, 
that  this  trade  was  prohibited  under  the  general  restrictions 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  *2l 

which  grew  out  of  the  hateful  policy  of  tiat  hateful  wretch, 
Philip  the  Second  —  Bloody  Mary's  husband,  let  it  be  rev 
erently  remembered  in  passing.  But  in  this  case  Don  Pedro 
cle  Nava,  the  commandant-general  of  the  north-eastern  prov 
inces  of  New  Spain,  had  given  Nolan  a  formal  permission 
to  carry  it  on.  The  horses  were  indeed  needed  in  the 
Spanish  garrisons  in  Louisiana.  On  his  several  returns  to 
Orleans,  Nolan,  had  sent  presents  of  handsome  horses  to  the 
governor,  as  token  of  his  success.  And  when  these  facts 
appeared  on  the  hearing  before  Judge  Bruen,  the  American 
judge,  he  said  that  this  could  not  be  regarded  as  a  hostile 
expedition  against  a  friendly  power ;  it  was  a  trading  ex 
pedition  permitted  in  form  by  the  authorities  of  that  power. 
The  United  States,  he  said,  wis  not  bound  to  intervene,  nor 
would  it  intervene  in  any  way. 

Accordingly  the  gay  young  party  started,  full  of  life  and 
hope.  I  am  afraid  no  man  of  them  would  have  turned  back 
had  Judge  Bruen  addressed  them  paternally,  and  told  them 
that  they  were  violating  the  neutrality  of  the  United  States 
by  an  attack  upon  the  territory  of  its  friends.  I  am  afraid 
none  of  them  loved  the  King  of  Spain.  But  I  am  bound  to 
say,  that,  so  far  as  three-quarters  of  a  century  has  unlocked 
the  secrets  of  the  past,  there  is  no  evidence  that  Philip  Nolan 
spoke  untruly  that  day,  or  that  he  had  any  foolish  notion  of 
invasion  or  conquest.  The  reader  will  see  that  his  conduct, 
and  that  of  his  men,  show  no  signs  of  any  such  notion ;  and 
neither  the  archives  of  Mexico  nor  of  America  have  divulged 
any  word  to  imply  it.1  , 

i  The  writer  begs  to  acknowledge  the  courtesy  with  which  Mr.  Fish  and  Mr. 
Jefferson,  the  accomplished  keeper  of  rolls,  as  well  as  Gen.  Belknap  at  the  War 
Office,  have  made  every  research  in  the  national  archives  which  would  throw  any 
light  on  the  darker  places  of  this  history.  The  following  letter  to  Philip  Nolan,  a 
copy  of  which  has  been  preserved  in  the  State  Department,  is  so  curious,  that  even 
the  reader  of  a  novel  may  pause  to  look  at  it :  — 

THOMAS  JEFFERSON  TO  PHILIP  NOLAN. 

PHILADELPHIA,  June  21,  1798. 

SIR,  —  It  is  seme  time  since  I  have  understood  that  there  are  large  herds  of  horses  in 
a  wild  state  in  the  country  west  of  the  Mississip;  i,  and  have  been  desirous  of  obtaining 


122  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

The  young  fellows  crossed  the  Mississippi  at  Walnut  Hills,1 
above  Natchez,  and  rode  westerly.  Their  route  would  thus 
lie  between  the  posts  of  Natchitoches  and  Washita  —  both  of 
them  old  French  posts,  now  held  by  Spanish  garrisons.  The 
Spanish  consul  at  Natchez  had  sent  word  to  the  commandant 
at  Washita  that  this  band  was  coming ;  and  he  sent  out  a 
party  of  dragoons  to  meet  them.  This  was  the  party  of 
which  the  reader  has  heard  already.  They  were  more  than 
twice  as  numerous  as  Nolan's  men,  but  they  hesitated  to 
attack  him,  as  well  they  might.  For,  whether  he  had  or  had 
not  any  right  to  bring  horses  out  from  New  Spain,  he  was  not 
yet  in  New  Spain :  he  was  still  in  Louisiana.  More  than 
this,  as  has  been  said,  he  carried  with  him  the  permission  of 
the  Spanish  governor  to  cross  the  frontier  for  the  purposes 
of  his  trade. 

The  Spanish  captain  therefore  pretended  that  he  had  only 
come  out  to  hunt  for  some  horses  he  had  lost.  But,  as  Nolan 
observed,  so  soon  as  he  advanced  with  his  friends,  the 
Spanish  soldiers  turned  and  dogged  him ;  nor  did  he  lose 

details  of  their  history  in  that  State.  Mr.  Brown,  Senator  from  Kentucky,  informs  me  it 
would  be  in  your  power  to  give  interesting  information  on  this  subject,  and  encourages  me 
to  ask  it.  The  circumstances  of  the  Old  World  have,  beyond  the  records  of  history,  been 
such  as  admitted  not  that  animal  to  exist  in  a  state  of  nature.  The  condition  of  America 
is  rapidly  advancing  to  the  same.  The  present,  then,  is  probably  the  only  moment  in  the 
age  of  the  world,  and  the  herds  above  mentioned  the  only  subjects,  of  vhich  we  can  avail 
ourselves  to  obtain  what  has  never  yet  been  recorded,  and  never  can  be  again,  in  all  proba 
bility.  I  will  add  that  your  information  is  the  sole  reliance,  as  far  as  I  can  at  present  see, 
for  obtaining  this  desideratum.  You  will  render  to  natural  history  a  very  acceptable 
service,  therefore,  if  you  will  enable  our  Philosophical  Society  to  add  so  interesting  i 
chapter  to  the  history  of  this  animal.  I  need  not  specify  to  you  the  particular  facts  asked 
for,  as  your  knowledge  of  the  animal  in  his  domesticated,  as  well  as  his  wild  state,  will 
naturally  havt-  led  your  attention  to  those  particulars  in  the  manners,  habits,  and  laws  of 
his  existence.,  which  are  peculiar  to  his  wild  state.  I  wish  you  not  to  be  anxious  about  the 
form  of  your  information :  the  exactness  of  the  substance  alone  is  material ;  and  if,  after 
giving  in  a  first  letter  all  the  facts  you  at  present  possess,  you  could  be  so  good  on  subse 
quent  occasions  as  to  furnish  such  others  in  addition  as  you  may  acquire  from  time  to 
iime,  your  communications  will  always  be  thankfully  received.  If  addressed  to  me  at 
Monlicello,  and  put  into  any  post-office  of  Kentucky  or  Tennessee,  they  will  reach  ma 
Fpeedily  and  safely,  and  will  be  considered  as  obligations  on,  sir, 

Your  most  obedient,  humble  servant, 

MR.  NOLAN.  TH:  JBPFKRSOK 

1  Now  Vicksburg. 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  123 

sight  of  them  till  he  passed  the  garrison  to  which  they 
belonged.  He  declined  to  go  into  Washita,  and  for  the  same 
reason  declined  to  bring  his  party  into  Natchitoches,  as  we 
have  seen.  They  crossed  the  Washita  River,  rode  merrily 
on  and  on  till  they  came  to  the  Red  River,  their  party  being 
diminished  only  by  the  absence  of  Harrod,  Richards,  Adams, 
and  King.  When  Blackburn  had  joined,  Cassar  had  jo'ned 
a*so ;  for  Caesar  had  an  enthusiasm  for  Capt.  Nolan,  and 
thought  to  see  wild  life,  to  collect  silver,  and  to  return  soon 
to  Miss  Inez.  Under  the  captain's  lead,  so  soon  as  he  had 
determined  to  give  Natchitoches  the  go-by,  they  kept  on  the 
east  side  from  the  Red  River,  till  they  came  to  the  village  of 
the  Caddoes.  Among  these  good-natured  and  friendly  peo 
ple,  they  staid  long  enough  to  build  a  raft,  and  ferry  their 
horses  over ;  and  now  the  real  enterprise  for  which  they  had 
started  was  begun. 

The  Caddoes  were  not  yet  used  to  visits  from  whites, 
though  they  had  learned  to  take  their  furs  to  Natchitoches 
every  year  to  sell.  The  Americans  found  them  in  this 
"month  of  turkeys,"  as  they  called  October,  or  the  "moon" 
which  filled  the  greater  part  of  October,  enjoying  the  holiday 
of  an  Indian's  life.  Their  lodges  were  made  by  a  frame 
work  of  poles  placed  in  a  circle  in  the  ground,  with  the  tops 
united  in  an  oval  form.  This  framework  was  tightly  bound 
together,  and  the  whole  nicely  thatched.  Within,  every  per 
son  had  a  "bunk"  of  his  own,  raised  from  the  ground,  and 
covered  with  buffalo-skins,  —  not  an  uncomfortable  house. 
Many  of  these  youngsters  who  visited  them  here  had  been 
born  in  log  cabins  which  had  not  so  much  room  upon  the 
floor;  for  these  lodges  covered  a  circle  which  was  twenty- 
five  feet  in  diameter.  More  than  once,  as  the  party  went 
forward,  were  the  members  of  it  glad  to  accept  the  hospi 
tality  which  such  lodges  offered,  and  more  than  once  glad  to 
build  such  for  their  own  quarters.  * 

And,  from  this  moment,  the  work  and  the  play  of  the  little 
party  began.  Nolan  was  encouraged  so  soon  as  he  learned 


124  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

that  his  presence  and  escort  for  the  party  of  ladies  were  no 
longer  needed.  One  day  he  was  negotiating  with  Twowok- 
anies,  —  friendly  people  enough  when  they  saw  the  strength 
of  the  long-knives ;  he  bought  from  them  some  fine  horses, 
and  so  the  business  of  the  expedition  prospered.  Six  days 
more  brought  them  to  Trinity  River,  and  across  it.  All  these 
young  men  were  used  to  open  prairie  life,  with  its  freedom 
and  adventure ;  but  only  the  six  Spaniards  of  the  party, 
Nolan  himself,  and  one  or  two  of  the  Americans,  had  ever 
taken  wild  horses  in  fair  chase  with  the  lasso.  The  use  01 
it  was  still  to  be  taught  and  learned,  as  the  warm  days 
of  October  and  November  passed.  While  Eunice  and  Inez 
were  wending  westward  from  Nacogdoches,  many  was  the 
frolic,  and  many  the  upset,  the  empty  saddle,  and  the  hair 
breadth  escape,  by  which  the  greenhorns  of  this  other  party 
were  broken  into  their  new  business.  But  it  was  a  jolly  and 
a  hearty  life ;  and  no  man  regretted  the  adventure  while 
buffalo-meat  and  fine  weather  lasted. 

As  they  crossed  the  divide  between  the  Trinity  and  the 
Brasses,  moving  on  a  parallel  line  with  the  smaller  party, 
the  supply  of  buffalo-meat  gave  out ;  and  they  had  to  try  the 
experiment  of  horse-flesh.  Bnt  there  were  few  of  them 
whose  fathers  and  grandfathers  had  not  tried  that  before 
them,  though  few  of  them  guessed  that  it  was  to  be  made 
fashionable  in  Parisian  cafes.  As  long  ago  as  the  days  of 
Philip  of  Mount  Hope,  the  savage  who  entertained  Capt. 
Church  offered  him  his  choice  of  "  cow-beef "  or  "  horse- 
beef."  With  the  Brasses  River  came  good  fare  again,  —  elk, 
antelope,  turkeys,  buffaloes,  and  wild  horses  by  thousands. 

So  the  captain  directed  that  here  the  camp  should  be 
established ;  and  here  "  Nolan's  River  "  still  flows,  to  main 
tain  the  memory  of  this  camp,  and  of  the  gallant  pioneer 
who  built  it  for  a  generation  which  has,  alas !  well-nigh  for- 
gbtten  him.  Wild  horses  are  but  an  uncertain,  shall  one  say 
a  skittish,  property  ?  It  is  said  of  all  riches,  that  "  they  take 
to  themselves  wings,  and  fly."  Of  that  form  of  wealth  which 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  125 

Nolan  and  his  friends  were  collecting,  the  essential  and 
special  worth  is  that  they  do  not  have  to  take  to  themselves 
legs,  but  are  all  ready  at  any  moment  to  flee.  Without  this 
quality,  indeed,  it  would  cease  to  be  wealth.  In  this  case, 
moreover,  the  neighborhood  of  Twowokanies,  Comanches, 
Apaches,  Lipans,  and  redskins  without  a  name,  made  tha 
uncertainty  of  wealth  still  more  uncertain.  Whatever  else 
was  doubtful,  this  was  sure,  that,  if  these  rascals  could  run 
off  the  horses  as  fast  as  they  were  corralled,  they  would  do 
so.  And  thus  to  hunt  all  day,  and  to  keep  watch  all  night, 
was  the  duty  of  the  little  party  as  the  long  nights  of  winter 
came  on. 

The  first  necessity,  therefore,  at  "  Nolan's  River,"  was  to 
build  a  corral,  or  pen,  of  logs,  to  be  enlarged  from  time  to 
time,  as  the  success  of  hunting  warranted.1  When  the  task 
was  over,  the  hunting  went  forward  with  more  animation ; 
and,  as  the  new  year  turned,  the  young  fellows  rejoiced  in  a 
drove  of  three  hundred  fine  horses,  which,  as  they  promised 
themselves,  they  should  take  to  a  good  market  in  Louisiana 
and  in  the  Mississippi  territory,  as  soon  as  the  spring  should 
open.  Camp-life  had  its  usual  adventures ;  but  the  great 
occasion  of  the  winter  was  the  arrival  of  a  party  of  two 
hundred  Comanches,  men,  women,  and  children,  on  their 
way  to  the  Red  River.  Several  tribes  of  different  names 
met  at  this  place.  A  great  chief  named  Nicoroco  had  sum 
moned  them  together  there.  The  young  whites  smoked  the 
pipe  of  peace  with  them  all,  gave  them  presents  as  they 
could,  and  ihought  they  had  opened  amicable  relations  with 
them.  And  so  they  returned  to  their  corral  and  their  hunt 
ing. 

Blackburn  had  joined,  with  Caesar.  But  to  the  surprise  of 
all,  —  that  of  the  captain  most  of  all,  —  Harrod  and  his 
squad  did  not  appear. 

Of  all  the  winter's  sojourn  there,  this  reader  need  now  he 

1  The  spot  is  not  known.  Some  of  my  correspondents  in  Texas  place  it  as 
far  south  as  Waco  County,  but  the  name  "  Nolan's  River  "  makes  this  doubtful. 


126  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

delayed  only  by  the  following  letter,  which  opens  the  plans 
and  hopes,  the  annoyances  and  failures,  of  Capt.  Nol 
an: — 

PHILIP  NOLAN  TO  EUNICE  PERRY: 
NOLAN'S  RIVER,  IN  THE  WILDERNESS, 
4th  day  of  the  month  of  chestnuts. 
Last  year  of  the  old  century. 

MY  DEAR  Miss  PERRY,  —  If  you  think  me  dead,  this  letter  unde 
ceives  you.  If  you  think  me  faithless,  let  me  try  to  undeceive  you.  If, 
which  is  impossible,  you  think  I  have  forgotten  you  or  Miss  Inez,  no 
words  that  I  can  write  will  undeceive  you. 

Blackburn  joined  us  safely  at  the  crossing  of  Trinity  River,  and 
brought  us  news  from  you  not  three  days  old.  I  have  to  thank  you  for 
your  letter,  and  Miss  Inez  for  her  little  postscript,  for  which  I  will  repay 
her  yet.  You  were  right  in  thinking  that  the  news  which  Will  sent  of 
the  cordiality  of  the  two  colonels,  and  of  their  determination  to  provide 
escort  for  you,  combined  with  your  own  great  courtesy  in  relieving  me 
from  my  promise  to  your  brother,  were  the  causes  which  changed  my 
plans  as  formed  when  we  parted.  Nothing  but  the  statement  of  your 
own  judgment  and  wish  would  have  debarred  me  from  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  you  and  your  niece  soon. 

It  is  very  true,  as  you  suspected,  that  my  presence  with  my  men  gives 
vigor  and  unity  to  their  work,  which  it  must  have  if  it  is  to  succeed. 
They  are  a  good  set,  on  the  whole  ;  but  boys  are  boys,  and  ringers  are 
rangers,  and  Spaniards  are  Spaniards.  I  am  sometimes  tempted  to  leave 
them  to  cut  each  others'  throats  when  they  stumble  into  one  of  their 
quarrels  ;  and  then,  another  day,  when  all  has  worked  well,  and  they  are 
dancing  or  singing,  or  telling  camp  stories  round  their  fire,  I  wonder  that 
I  have  ever  thought  them  any  thing  but  a  band  of  brothers. 

My  only  anxiety  arises  from  the  detention  of  Will  Harrod  and  his 
men,  who  have  not  joined  me ;  but  I  suppose  you  know,  better  than  I, 
the  cause  of  their  delay. 

The  great  enterprise  goes  forward  happily.  I  shall  hope  to  send  Mr. 
Jefferson  a  valuable  letter.  If  only  I  can  send  him  a  horse  across  the 
Alleghanies !  I  have  for  your  brother's  own  saddle  the  handsomest 
black  charger  he  ever  set  his  eyes  upon,  the  stud  of  the  First  Consul  him 
self,  or  of  your  Gracious  Majesty  Charles  the  Fourth,  not  excepted.  If 
only  the  beast  escapes  "  One  Eye,"  and  the  distemper  and  ye'Jow-water, 
—  which  may  Castor  and  Pollux  grant!  Are  not  they  the  protectors 
of  horses  ?  An  exciting  life  is  ours.  In  the  saddle  for  I  he  whole  of 
daylight,  we  do  not  lose  our  anxiety  when  the  night  comes  on  :  at  least 


'THEY    TOOK    MASTER   ONE    EYE    AND   TIED    HIM    TO    A   TKEE    FOR. 
THE    NIGHT." 


OK,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS,"  J2f 

we  chiefs  do  not.     My  boys  are  snoring  around  this  pine-knot  fire,  while 
I  am  writing,  as  if  they  knew  no  care.     But  it  is  always  so. 

"  Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown." 

But  my  fair  enemy  Miss  Inez  will  never  be  satisfied,  if  in  the  wil 
derness  here  I  end  by  quoting  Shakspeare.  Tell  her  it  is  for  her  sake 
that  I  end  my  letter  with  an  adventure,  which  she  may  introduce  into  her 
first  romance.  You  must  know,  and  she  must  know,  that  I  and  half  a 
dozen  of  rr.y  boys  have  been  on  a  visit  to  Nicoroco,  the  great  chief  of 
chieftains  in  these  regions.  The  great  Wallace  himself  was  not  so  bare 
legged  as  Nicoroco  is,  nor  did  his  sway  extend  nearly  so  far.  Yes,  and 
we  smoked  calumets  of  peace  enough  to  make  Miss  Inez  sick  ten  times 
over,  and  Miss  Perry  also,  unless  your  new  waif  —  Hawk-Eye,  is  her 
name  ? — have  taught  you,  faster  than  I  believe,  the  peaceful  habits  of  the 
wilderness.  Heavens  !  if  your  royal  master's  handsome  chief  commander, 
the  "  Prince  of  Peace,"  as  I  am  told  he  is  called,  could  but  have  presided, 
he  would  never  have  feared  the  salvajos  Americanos  any  more !  Ah, 
well  !  We  returned  from  these  pacifications  to  our  corral,  our  buffalo- 
meat,  and  our  horses,  and  alas  !  a  few  pacified  Comanches  returned 
with  us. 

What  faith  can  you  put  in  man  ?  Early  one  morning  our  dear  friends 
departed  ;  and  when  we  shook  ourselves  a  few  hours  after,  for  our  break 
fast,  we  found,  that,  by  some  accident  not  to  be  explained,  they  had  taken 
with  them  all  of  our  eleven  saddle-horses,  and  that  for  the  future  we  were 
to  pursue  the  mustangs  on  foot,  and  on  foot  were  to  drive  them  through 
the  deserts  to  Natchez  and  Orleans  !  This  was  the  interpretation  given 
in  effect  to  all  our  pacifications  ! 

What  to  do  ?  Quien  sabe  ?  Certainly  I  did  not  know.  But  I  did 
know  I  was  neither  going  to  ride  a  wild  mustang  home,  nor  appear  on 
foot  in  the  presence  of  my  townsfolk  the  other  side  of  the  Father  of 
Waters.  So  I  called  for  volunteers,  and  your  dear  old  Caesar  stepped 
forth  first.  Three  white  men  joined,  ashamed  to  be  outdone  by  a  darkey. 
On  foot  we  started.  On  foot  we  followed  their  trail  for  nine  days- 
Day  by  day  they  were  more  careless.  Day  by  day  we  were  more  cheer 
ful.  The  ninth  day  we  walked  gently  into  their  camp,  unsuspected  and 
unexpected.  There  was  my  old  chestnut,  whom  you  rode  that  Tuesday ; 
there  were  three  other  of  our  beasts  ;  and  there  that  evening  came  in,  as 
innocent  as  a  lamb,  my  old  friend  One  Eye,  of  whom  I  have  told  you 
before,  with  some  excellent  friends  of  his,  mounted  on  the  other  seven  of 
our  brutes.  This  time  I  took  Master  One  Eye,  and  tied  him  to  a  tree  for 
the  night,  to  give  him  a  chance  to  ponder  the  principles  of  the  Great  Cal 
umet  The  next  morning  we  helped  ourselves  to  all  the  bear-meat  we 
could  carry,  and  turned  our  faces  to  Nolan's  River.  We  were  not  nine 
days  cominsr  home. 


128  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

There,  Miss  Inez  !  had  ever  Amadis  such  an  adventure,  or  Robert 
Bruce,  or  the  Count  Odoardo  de  Rascallo,  or  your  handsome  hero  Gen. 
Junot  ? 

It  is  near  midnight,  unless  Orion  tells  lies ;  and  the  fire  burns  low. 
My  homage  is  in  all  these  lines.    Adios. 

Your  ladyship's  most  faithful  vassal, 

To  come  or  to  stay  away, 

PHILIP  NOLAN 


OR.  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS,"  129 


CHAPTER  XI. 

RUMORS   OF   WARS. 

"  With  chosen  men  of  Leon,  from  the  city  Bernard  Joes, 
To  protect  the  soil  of  Spain  from  the  spear  of  foreign  foes,  — 
From  the  city  which  is  planted  in  the  midst  between  the  seas, 
To  preserve  the  name  and  glory  of  old  Pelayo's  victories." 

LOCKHART. 

CAPT.  PHILIP  NOLAN  was,  when  he  wrote,  in  far  greatei 
danger  than  he  supposed. 

As  I  write  this  morning,  if  any  gentleman  now  by  the 
side  of  "  Nolan's  River  "  were  curious  to  know  if  King  Al 
fonso  spent  an  agreeable  night  last  night,  he  could  send  to 
some  station  not  far  away,  and  his  curiosity  would  be  relieved 
before  dinner.  At  least,  I  suppose  so.  I  know  that  I  was 
favored  some  hours  ago  with  the  intelligence,  which  I  did  not 
want,  that  King  Alfonso  was  about  to  leave  Madrid  this 
morning,  and  ride  to  his  army.  In  truth,  as  it  happens,  I 
know  better  what  he  is  going  to  do  to-day  than  I  know  where 
my  next  neighbor  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  is  going. 

But,  when  Philip  Nolan  wrote  these  merry  words  to  Eunice 
Perry,  he  knew  little  enough  of  what  was  doing  at  Madrid ; 
and  he  knew  still  less,  as  it  happened,  of  what  was  in  the 
wind  at  a  capital  much  nearer  to  him.  This  was  the  famous 
and  noble  city  of  Chihuahua,  —  a  city  some  three  hundred 
miles  west  of  Nolan's  corral.  To  this  distant  point  I  shaL 
not  have  to  ask  the  reader  to  go  again ;  but,  before  the  several 
pieces  on  our  little  board  advance  another  step,  I  must  ask 
him  to  look  for  a  moment  now  behind  all  intermediate  pawns, 


f30  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

and  see  what  is  the  attitude  of  him  who  represents  the  king, 
protected  here  by  his  distant  and  forgotten  bishops,  knights, 
and  castles. 

Chihuahua  was,  in  the  year  1800,  a  city  quite  as  imposing 
in  aspect  as  it  is  to-day.  To  those  simple  people  who  had  to 
come  and  go  thither  for  '.me  or  another  measure  of  justice, 
injustice,  protection,  or  vengeance,  it  seemed  the  most  mag 
nificent  city  in  the  world,  —  wholly  surpassing  the  grandeurs 
of  all  other  frontier  or  garrison  towns.  Around  the  public 
square  were  built  a  splendid  cathedral,  the  royal  treasury, 
and  a  building  which  served  as  the  hotel-de-ville  of  the 
administration  of  the  city.  The  cathedral  was  one  of  the 
most  splendid  in  New  Spain.  It  had  been  erected  at  enor 
mous  cost,  and  was  regarded  with  astonishment  and  pride  by 
all  the  people,  who  had  seen  no  statues  or  pictures  to  com 
pare  with  those  displayed  in  its  adornments.  Several  noble 
"  missiones,"  a  military  academy,  the  establishments  of  the 
Dominicans,  Franciscans,  and  those  which  the  Jesuits  had 
formerly  built,  added  to  the  European  aspect  of  the  city. 

Our  business  with  Chihuahua  is  that,  in  this  city,  Don 
Pedro  de  Nava,  the  general-commandant  of  the  north-eastern 
provinces  at  this  time,  held  his  court.  Under  the  adminis 
tration  then  existing  in  New  Spain,  this  was  an  unlimited 
military  authority.  In  the  more  southern  provinces  oi  what 
is  now  the  Republic  of  Mexico,  a  system  of  a  sort  of  courts 
of  appeal  known  as  "  audiences  "  had  been  created  as  some 
check  upon  the  viceroy  and  the  intendants.  But  in  the 
northern  provinces  no  such  system  was  known,  and  the  mili 
tary  law  corresponded  precisely  to  the  definition  given  in 
Boston  in  -Gen.  .Gage's  time  :  — 

"  ist,  The  commander  does  as  he  chooses. 

"ad,  Military  law  is  the  law  that  permits  him  to  do  so." 

This  Gov.-Gen.  de  Nava  had,  as  the  reader  has  been  told, 
issued  to  Nolan  a  formal  permission  to  come  from  Louisiana 
for  horses,  to  take  such  as  were  needed  for  the  remount  of 
the  Spanish  army,  and  for  these  purposes  to  bring  with  him 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  131 

two  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  goods  for  trade  with  the  In 
dians.  I  have  seen  De  Nava's  own  account  of  this  order  in 
the  curious  archives  at  San  Antonio.  Alas !  I  am  afraid  poor 
Phil  Nolan  had  no  two  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  goods,  and 
that  that  part  of  the  permit  served  him  little.  After  De  Nava 
issued  it, — on  some  report  to  Madrid  on  the  subject,  or  on 
some  new  terror  there,  —  much  stricter  orders  came  to  him, 
which  he  was  obliged  to  repeat  to  all  the  local  governors. 
He  became  painfully  aware  that  his  permit  to  Nolan  exceeded 
by  far  his  present  power.  He  does  not  seem  to  have  thought 
of  notifying  him  that  it  was  recalled.  He  did  write  to  San 
Antonio  and  to  Nacogodoches,  to  say  that  nobody  else  must 
come  for  the  same  purpose,  but  that  his  permit  to  Nolan 
was  still  an  excuse  for  his  coming.  He  said,  that,  as  Nolan 
might  have  with  him  the  two  thousand  dollars'  worth  of 
goods  permitted,  the  commanders  at  San  Antonio  might  take 
them  off  his  hands  for  the  royal  service.  At  the  same  time  he 
intimated  that  it  was  so  long  since  his  permit  was  given,  that 
Nolan  ought  not  to  come.  But  these  papers  all  show  a  weak 
man,  conscious  that  his  superiors  will  be  displeased  by  what 
he  has  already  done,  and  hoping  against  hope  that  something 
may  turn  up  so  that  no  harm  may  come  of  it. 

Gov.  Salcedo,  of  whom  the  reader  will  hear  again,  was  the 
evil  spirit  of  the  Spanish  administration  of  these  regions,  as 
the  worthless  "  Prince  of  Peace  "  was  its  evil  spirit  at  home. 

Gen.  Salcedo  was  the  governor  who  had  expressed  the 
wish,  cited  in  an  earlier  chapter,  that  he  could  even  prevent 
the  birds  from  crossing  from  Louisiana  into  Texas.  He  was 
a  faithful  disciple  of  the  extremest  views  of  King  Philip. 
While  the  local  governor  of  Coahuila,  and  the  commandant 
at  San  Antonio,  both  of  them  intelligent  men,  saw  without 
uneasiness  an  occasional  traveller  from  Natchitoches,  or 
Philip  Nolan  proposing  to  go  to  Orleans, — Salcedo  raved 
when  he  heard  of  such  obliquity  or  carelessness.  Tf  they 
had  told  him  that  the  primate  of  Mont  El  Rey,  the  beloved 
Bishop  Don  Dio  Primero,  had  extended  his  episcopal  visita- 


132  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

tion  as  far  as  Natchitoches,  he  would  have  been  beside  him 
self  with  indignation.  "What  devils  should  take  the  bishop 
so  far  ?  "  And,  when  they  told  him  that  the  bishop  went  to 
fight  the  Devil,  he  expressed  the  wish  that  his  holiness  would 
leave  as  many  devils  as  he  could  to  harry  those  damnable 
French  and  the  more  damnable  Americanos  beyond  them. 
Ah  me !  if  Don  Salcedo  had  been  permitted  to  live  to  see 
the  day,  forty  years  later,  when  Sam  Houston's  men  charged 
on  poor  Santa  Anna's  lines  at  San  Jacinto,  screaming,  "  Re 
member  the  Alamo  !  "  he  would  have  said  that  none  of  his 
black  portents  were  too  black,  and  none  of  his  prophecies 
of  evil  gloomy  enough.  He  would  have  said  that  he  was 
the  Cassandra  who  could  not  avert  the  future  of  Texas  and 
Coahuila. 

De  Nava  had  seen  no  danger  in  permitting  poor  Philip 
Nolan  to  drive  a  few  horses,  more  or  less,  across  the  frontier 
of  Texas  into  the  king's  colony  of  Louisiana.  If  the  horses 
had  gone  there  at  their  own  will,  as  doubtless  thousands  of 
horses  did  yearly,  quien  sabe?  and  what  harm  ?  If  Philip 
Nolan  chose  to  come  to  San  Antonio,  and  spend  there  a  little 
Orleans  money  in  his  outfit  for  such  an  expedition;  if  he 
hired  for  good  dollars  a  handful  of  Spanish  hunters  to  go 
with  him, — what  harm?  said  Don  Pedro  de  Nava.  And  so 
he  gave  Philip  Nolan  the  passport  and  permission  aforesaid. 

But  the  authorities  in  the  city  of  Mexico,  and  those  in 
the  city  of  Madrid,  did  not  know  Philip  Nolan,  and  did  not 
understand  such  reasoning.  The  only  PhiHp  they  chose  to 
remember  in  the  business  was  that  Most  Gracious  and  Very 
Catholic  Philip,  Lord  of  both  Indies,  who  was  good  at  burn 
ing  heretics.  It  was  certain  that  he  would  have  had  no 
horse-hunting  in  his  domains  but  by  loyal,  God-fearing  sub 
jects  of  his  own.  And  if  De  Nava  and  those  lax  and  good- 
natured  men,  the  governors  of  the  eastern  provinces  of 
Coahuila  and  Texas,  had  assented  to  such  heretical  horse- 
hunting,  it  was  time  for  them  to  know  who  was  master  in 
these  deserts  j  and  the  orders  should  proceed  "  from  these 


OK,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  133 

headquarters."  And  if  that  broken-down  old  fool  Casa 
Calvo,  away  in  that  bastard  province  of  Louisiana,  which 
was  neither  one  thing  nor  another,  —  neither  colony  nor 
foreign  state,  —  if  he  chose  to  go  to  sleep  while  people  invade 
us,  why,  we  must  be  all  the  more  watchful ! 

By  some  wretched  accident,  as  we  must  suppose,  some 
account  of  Nolan's  plans,  enormously  exaggerated,  seems  to 
have  come  even  to  the  city  of  Mexico.  The  traditions  are 
that  Mordecai  Richards,  —  the  same  Richards  whom  we  have 
already  introduced  to  our  readers,  —  after  he  had  engaged  in 
Nolan's  service,  sent  traitorous  information  to  some  Spanish 
authority,  of  the  plan  of  the  expedition  and  of  its  probable 
route.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Spanish  governors  of  the  suspicious 
race  were  far  too  much  excited  then  to  receive  such  news  with 
satisfaction.  Old  John  Adams's  messages  about  the  mouth  of 
the  Mississippi 1  had  not  been  very  pacific.  Everybody  knew, 
what  everybody  has  long  since  forgotten,  that  he  had  half  his 
army  on  that  stream,  and  fleets  of  flatboats  at  every  post, 
which  were  waiting  only  for  the  time  when  he  should  say 
"  Go,"  and  his  army  would  pounce  upon  Orleans.  Nobody 
could  say  at  what  moment  European  combinations  might 
make  this  step  feasible,  without  the  least  danger  that  the 
"Prince  of  Peace,"  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  armies 
of  King  Charles,  should  strike  any  return  blow.  "  Hunting 
horses,  forsooth  ! "  said  Don  Nemisio  de  Salcedo :  "  are  we 
fools  to  have  such  stories  told  to  us  ?  It  is  an  army  of  these 
giants  of  Kentuckianos  ;  they  must  be  driven  back  before  it  is 
too  late."  And  poor  Governor  De  Nava,  unwillingly  enough 
had  to  "  take  the  back  track,"  and  act  as  if  he  thought  so 
too. 

His  military  force  was  not  large.  In  times  of  absolute 
peace,  seeing  no  foreign  army  was  within  five  hundred  miles 
of  Chihuahua,  the  garrison  of  that  city  was  usually  not  more 
than  two  or  three  1]  undred  men.  But  in  this  terrible  exigency, 
with  the  Kentuckianos  mustering  in  force  on  his  distant 

l  Not  Harrod's  John  Adams,  but  President  John. 


134  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

border,  De  Nava  withheld  every  unnecessary  band  that 
would  otherwise  have  gone  after  Apaches  or  Comanches, 
refused  all  leaves  of  absence  and  furloughs,  made  his  most 
of  the  loyalty  of  the  military  academy,  and  against  poor  Phil 
Nolan,  fearing  nothing  in  his  corral,  was  able  to  equip  an 
irmy  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  men. 

Military  men,  whose  judgment  is  second  to  none,  assure 
us  that  there  was  never  better  material  for  an  army  than  the 
Mexican  soldier  of  that  day.  This  force  of  dragoons  were 
all  of  them  men  who  had  seen  service  against  the  mounted 
Indians.  Each  man  had  a  little  bag  of  parched  corn  meal 
and  sugar,  the  common  equipage  of  the  hunters  of  those 
regions.  Travellers  of  to-day,  solicited  in  palace-cars  to  buy 
sugared  parched-corn,  do  not  know,  perhaps,  that  this  is  the 
food  of  pioneers  in  front  of  Apaches.  Besides  this,  a  pater 
nal  government  provided  good  wheat  biscuit  and  shaved  dry 
meat,  which  they  ate  with  enormous  quantities  of  red  pepper. 
With  such  outfit  the  troop  would  ride  cheerily  all  day,  taking 
no  meal  excepting  at  the  encampment  at  night ;  and,  if  any 
man  were  hungry  in  the  day,  he  bit  a  piece  of  biscuit,  or 
drank  some  water  with  his  corn-meal  and  sugar  stirred  into  it. 

After  orders  and  additional  orders  which  need  not  be 
named,  the  little  army  assembled  in  the  square  in  front  of  the 
cathedral.  It  was  to  march  against  the  heretics :  that  was 
all  they  knew.  A  priest  came  out  with  holy  water,  to  bless 
the  colors.  Every  man  had  been  confessed ;  and  every  man, 
as  he  shook  himself  into  his  saddle,  understood  that,  what 
ever  befell,  he  had  a  very  considerable  abatement  made  from 
the  unpleasantness  of  purgatory,  because  he  was  on  this  holy 
errand.  As  they  were  on  special  service,  not  against  Indians 
but  whites,  the  lances  which  they  carried  on  the  prairies  were 
taken  away.  But  every  man  had  a  carbine  slung  in  front  of 
his  saddle,  a  heavy  horse-pistol  on  each  side,  and  below  the 
carbine  the  shield,  which  was  still  in  use,  even  in  this  century, 
to  ward  off  arrows.  It  was  made  of  triple  sole-leather.  It 
was  round,  and  two  feet  in  diameter.  The  officers  carried 


Off.    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  135 

oval  shields  bending  on  both  sides,  and  in  elegant  blazonry 
displayed  the  arms  of  the  king  or  of  Spain,  with  other  devices. 
So  that  it  would  have  been  easy  to  imagine  that  Fernando 
del  Soto  had  risen  from  his  grave,  and  that  this  was  a  party 
of  the  cavaliers  of  chivalry  who  were  starting  against  poor 
Nolan  and  his  fifteen  horse-hunters  in  buckskin. 

The  governor,  with  the  officers  of  his  staff,  in  full  uniform, 
had  assisted  at  the  sacred  ceremonials  in  the  church.  The 
men  marched  out  and  mounted.  The  governor,  standing  on 
the  steps  of  the  cathedral,  gave  his  hand  to  the  commander 
of  the  party. 

"  May  God  preserve  you  many  years !  "  he  said. 

"May  God  preserve  your  Excellency!  " 

"  Death  to  the  savage  heretics !  "  said  the  governor. 

"  Death  to  the  invaders !  "  said  Col.  Muzquiz,  now  in  the 
saddle.  Then  turning  to  his  men,  he  waved  his  hand,  and 
cried,  "  Long  live  the  king !  " 

"  Long  live  the  king !  "  they  answered  cheerily. 

"  Forward,  march  1 "  A  hand  kissed  to  a  lady  —  and  the 
troop  was  gone  1 


136  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS: 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  LOVE   WAITS   AND    WEEPS." 

"  The  stranger  viewed  the  shore  around  : 
'Twas  all  so  close  with  copsewood  bound, 
Nor  track  nor  pathway  might  declare 
That  human  foot  frequented  there." 

Lady  if  the  Lake. 

THE  little  camp  which  Harrod  had  formed  on  the  Little 
Brassos  was  not  much  more  than  a  hundred  miles  below  the 
corral  in  which,  some  weeks  later,  Nolan  wrote  his  meiry 
letter  to  the  ladies.  Now  that  farms  and  villages  spot  the 
country  between,  —  nay,  when  it  is  even  vexed  by  railroad 
lines  and  telegraphs,  — now  that  this  poor  little  story  is  per 
haps  to  be  scanned  even  upon  the  spot  by  those  familiar  with 
every  locality,  —  it  is  impossible  to  bear  in  mind  that  then 
the  region  between  was  all  untrodden  even  by  savages,  and 
that,  had  Harrod  and  the  ladies-  loitered  at  their  camp  till 
Nolan  arrived  at  his,  they  would  still  be  as  widely  parted  as 
if  they  were  living  on  two  continents  to-day. 

The  disappearance  of  poor  little  Inez  was  not  noticed  in 
the  camp  till  she  had  been  away  nearly  an  hour,  —  indeed, 
just  as  the  sun  was  going  down.  Harrod  had  told  her  that 
he  would  join  her  on  the  knoll,  and  had  hurried  his  necessary 
inspection,  that  he  might  have  the  pleasure  of  sitting  by  her, 
talking  with  her,  and  watching  her  at  her  work.  But,  when 
he  turned  to  walk  up  to  her,  he  saw  that  she  was  no  longer 
there ;  and,  seeing  also  that  the  curtain  in  front  of  her  tent 
was  closed,  he  supposed,  without  another  thought,  that  she 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR   PASSPORTS."  137 

had  returned  from  the  hillside,  and  was  again  in  her  tent 
with  Eunice.  A  little  impatiently  he  walked  to  and  fro, 
watching  the  curtain  door  from  time  to  time,  in  the  hope 
that  she  would  appear.  But,  as  the  reader  knows,  she  did 
not  appear.  Yet  it  was  not  till  her  aunt  came  forth  fresh 
from  a  late  siesta,  in  answer  to  Ransom's  call  to  dinner,  that 
Harrod  learned,  to  his  dismay,  that  Inez  was  not  with  her. 
If  he  felt  an  instant's  anxiety,  he  concealed  it.  He  only 
said,  — 

"  How  provoking !  I  have  been  waiting  for  her  because 
she  said  she  would  make  a  sketch  from  the  knoll  here ;  and 
now  she  must  be  at  work  somewhere  all  alone." 

"  She  is  a  careless  child,"  said  Eunice,  "  to  have  gone 
away  from  us  into  this  evening  air  without  her  shawl.  But 
no  :  she  has  taken  that.  Still  she  ought  to  be  here." 

But  Harrod  needed  no  quickening,  and  had  already  run 
up  the  hill  to  call  her. 

Of  course  he  did  not  find  her.  He  did  find  the  note-book 
and  the  sketch-book,  and  the  open  box  of  colors.  Anxious 
now  indeed,  but  very  unwilling  to  make  Eunice  anxious,  he 
ran  down  to  the  water's  edge,  calling  as  loudly  as  he  dared, 
if  he  were  not  to  be  heard  at  the  camp,  but  hearing  no 
answer.  He  came  down  to  the  very  point  where  the  cotton- 
wood  tree  had  fallen ;  and  he  was  too  good  a  woodsman  not 
to  notice  at  once  the  fresh  trail  of  the  panther  and  the  cubs. 
He  found  as  well  tupelo  leaves  and  bay  leaves,  which  he  felt 
sure  Inez  had  broken  from  their  stems.  Had  the  girl  been 
frightened  by  the  beast,  and  lost  herself  above  or  below  in 
the  swamp  ? 

Or  had  she,  —  horrid  thought,  which  he  would  not  ac 
knowledge  to  himself!  —  had  she  ignorantly  taken  refuge  on 
the  fallen  cottonwood  tree,  —  the  worst  possible  refuge  she 
could  have  chosen  ?  had  she  crept  out  upon  it,  and  fallen 
into  the  chep  water  of  the  bayou? 

He  would  not  permit  himself  to  entertain  a  thought  so 
horrible.  But  he  knew  that  a  wretched  half-hour  —  nay, 


138  PHILIP  NOLAN' 'S  FRIENDS; 

nearly  an  hour  —  had  sped  since  he  spoke  with  hei ;  and 
what  worlds  of  misery  can  be  crowded  into  an  hour!  He 
ran  out  upon  the  tree,  and  found  at  once  the  traces  of  the 
girl's  lair  there.  Ke  found  the  places  where  she  had  broken 
the  branches.  He  guessed,  and  guessed  rightly,  where  she 
had  crouched.  He  found  the  very  twig  from  which  she  had 
twisted  the  bright  tupelo.  And  he  looked  back  through  the 
little  vista  to  the  shore,  and  could  see  how  she  saw  the  beasts 
standing  by  the  water.  He  imagined  the  whole  position ; 
and  he  had  only  the  wretched  comfort,  that,  if  she  had  fallen, 
it  must  be  that  some  rag  of  her  clothing,  or  some  bit  of 
broken  branch  below,  would  have  told  the  tale.  No  such 
token  was  there ;  that  is,  it  was  not  certain  that  she  had 
fallen,  and  given  one  scream  of  agony  unheard  before  the 
whole  was  over. 

He  must  go  back  to  camp,  however  unwillingly.  He 
studied  the  trail  with  such  agony,  even,  as  he  had  not  felt 
before.  He  followed  down  the  side  track  which  Inez  had 
followed  for  a  dozen  yards,  but  then  was  sure  that  he  was 
wasting  precious  daylight.  He  fairly  ran  back  to  camp,  — 
only  careful  to  disturb  by  his  footfall  no  trace  which  was 
now  upon  weed  or  leaf ;  and  when  he  came  near  enough  he 
had  to  walk  as  if  not  too  eager. 

"  Has  she  come  home  ?  "  said  he,  with  well-acted  calmness. 

"You  have  not  found  her?  Dear,  dear  child,  where  is 
she  ?  "  And  in  an  instant  Eunice's  eagerness  and  Harrod's 
was  communicated  to  the  whole  camp.  He  showed  the  only 
traces  he  had  found.  He  told  of  the  open  color-box  and 
drawing-book ;  and  Eunice  instantly  supplied  the  clew  which 
Harrod  had  not  held  before. 

"  She  went  down  to  fill  her  water-bottle.  Did  you  find  that 
there,  —  a  little  cup  of  porcelain  ? " 

No,  Harrod  had  not  seen  that :  he  knew  he  should  have 
seen  it.  And  at  this  moment  Ransom  brought  in  all  these 
sad  waifs,  and  the  white  cup  was  not  among  them.  Harrod 
begged  the  poor  lady  not  to  be  distressed :  the  fire  of  a  rifle 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."'  139 

would  call  the  girl  in.  But  Eunice  of  course  went  with  him  ; 
and  then  even  her  eye  detected  instantly  what  he  had 
refrained  from  describing  to  her,  —  the  heavy  footprints  of 
the  panther. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  she  cried ;  and  Harrod  had  to  tell  her. 

In  an  instant  she  leaped  to  his  conclusion,  that  the  child 
had  taken  refuge  somewhere  from  the  fear  of  this  beast  , 
and  in  an  instant  more,  knowing  what  she  should  have  done 
herself,  knowing  how  steady  of  head  and  how  firm  of  foot 
Inez  was,  she  said,  — 

"  She  ran  out  on  that  cottonwood  tree,  Mr.  Harrod. 
Look  there,  —  and  there,  —  and  there,  —  she  broke  the  bark 
away  with  her  feet !  My  child  !  my  child !  has  she  fallen  into 
the  stream  ?  " 

Now  it  was  Harrod's  turn  to  explain  that  this  was  impossi 
ble.  He  confessed  to  the  discovery  of  the  tupelo  leaves. 
Inez  had  been  on  the  log.  But  she  had  not  fallen,  he  said, 
lying  stoutly.  There  was  no  such  wreck  of  broken  branches 
as  her  fall  would  have  made.  And,  before  he  was  half 
done,  the  suggestion  had  been  enough.  Two  of  the  men 
were  in  the  water.  It  was  deep,  alas !  it  was  over  their 
heads.  But  the  men  had  no  fear.  They  went  under  again 
and  again  ;  they  followed  the  stream  down  its  sluggish  cur 
rent.  So  far  as  their  determined  guess  was  worth  any  thing, 
Inez's  body  was  not  there. 

I:x  the  meanwhile  every  man  of  them  had  his  theory.  The 
water  terror  held  to  Eunice,  though  she  said  nothing  of  it. 
The  men  believed  generally  that  those  infernal  Apaches  had 
been  on  their  trail  ever  since  they  left  the  fort;  that  they 
wanted  perhaps  to  regain  White  Hawk,  or  perhaps  thought 
they  would  take  another  prisoner  in  her  place.  This  was 
the  first  chance  that  had  been  open  to  them,  and  they  had 
pounced  here.  This  was  the  theory  which  they  freely  com 
municated  to  each  other  and  to  Ransom.  To  Eunice  in 
person,  when  she  spoke  to  one  or  another,  in  the  hurried 
preparations  for  a  search,  they  kept  up  a  steady  and  senseles/i 


£40  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

lie,  such  as  it  is  the  custom  of  ignorant  men  to  utter  to  women 
whom  they  would  encourage.  The  girl  had  missed  the  turn 
by  the  bay -trees  ;  or  she  had  gone  up  the  stream  looking  for 
posies.  It  would  not  be  fifteen  minutes  before  they  had  her 
''  back  to  camp  "  again.  Such  were  the  honeyed  words  with 
which  they  hoped  to  re-assure  the  agonized  woman,  even 
while  they  charged  their  rifles,  or  fastened  tighter  their  moc- 
casons,  as  if  for  war.  Of  course  she  was  not  deceived  for  an 
instant.  For  herself,  while  they  would  let  her  stay  by  the 
water-side,  she  was  pressing  through  one  and  another  quag 
mire  to  the  edge  of  the  cove  in  different  places.  But  at  last, 
as  his  several  little  parties  of  quest  arranged  themselves, 
Harrod  compelled  her  to  return.  As  she  turned  up  from  the 
stream,  one  of  the  negroes  came  up  to  her,  wet  from  the  water. 
He  gave  her  the  little  porcelain  cup,  which  had  lodged  on  a 
tangle  of  sedge  just  below  the  cottonwood  tree.  Strange 
that  no  one  should  have  noticed  it  before ! 

Every  instant  thus  far,  as  the  reader  knows,  had  been 
wasted  time.  Perhaps  it  was  no  one's  fault,  —  nay,  certainly 
it  was  no  one's  fault,  —  for  every  one  had  "  done  the  best 
his  circumstance  allowed."  For  all  that,  it  had  been  all 
wasted  time.  Had  Harrod  fired  a  rifle  the  moment  he  first 
missed  Inez,  with  half  an  hour  of  daylight  still,  and  with  the 
certainty  that  she  would  have  heard  the  shot,  and  could  have 
seen  her  way  toward  him,  all  would  have  been  well.  But 
Harrod  had,  and  should  have  had,  the  terror  lest  he  should 
alarm  Eunice  unduly ;  and,  in  trying  to  save  her,  he  really 
lost  his  object.  At  the  stream,  again,  minutes  of  daylight 
passed  quicker  than  any  one  could  believe,  in  this  scanning 
of  the  trail,  and  plunging  into  the  water.  The  shouts  —  even 
the  united  shouts  of  the  party  —  did  not  tell  on  the  night  air 
as  the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle  would  have  done.  Worst  of  all, 
in  losing  daylight,  they  were  losing  every  thing;  and  this, 
when  it  was  too  late,  Harrod  felt  only  too  well. 

Considering  what  he  knew,  and  the  impressions  he  was 
under,  his  dispositions,  which  were  prompt,  were  well  planned 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  141 

and  soldierly.  It  is  but  fair  to  say  this,  though  they  were  in 
fact  wholly  wrong.  Yielding  to  the  belief,  for  which  he  had 
only  too  good  reason,  that  the  Apaches  were  on  the  trail, 
and  had  made  a  push  to  secure  their  captive  again,  Harrod 
bade  the  best  soldiers  of  his  little  party  join  him  for  a  ha^ty 
dash  back  on  the  great  trail,  in  the  hope  that  traces  of  them 
might  be  found,  and  that  they  could  be  overtaken  even 
now,  before  it  was  wholly  dark.  One  thing  was  certain,  — 
that,  if  they  had  pounced  on  their  victim,  they  had  turned 
promptly.  They  had  not  been  seen  nor  suspected  at  the 
camp  itself,  by  their  trail. 

Silently,  and  without  Eunice's  knowledge,  he  bade  Richards 
work  southward,  and  Harry,  the  negro  boy  who  had  brought 
in  the  water-bottle,  work  northward,  along  the  edges  of  the 
bayou.  If  there  were  —  any  thing — there,  they  must  find  it, 
so  long  as  light  lasted.  And  they  were  to  be  in  no  haste  to 
return.  "  Do  not  let  me  see  you  before  midnight.  The  moon 
will  be  up  by  and  by.  Stay  while  you  can  see  the  hand 
before  your  face." 

He  should  have  given  rifles  to  both  of  them.  Richards,  in 
fact,  took  his;  but  the  negro  Harry,  as  was  supposed  in  the 
fond  theory  of  those  times,  had  never  carried  a  gun,  and  he 
went  with  no  weapon  of  sound  but  his  jolly  "  haw-haw-haw  " 
and  his  vigorous  call.  Once  more  here  was  a  mistake. 
Harry's  rifle-shot,  had  he  had  any  rifle  to  fire,  would  have 
brought  Inez  in  even  then. 

Meanwhile  Ransom  led  Eunice  back  to  the  camp-fire;  and, 
when  his  arrangements  by  the  bayou  were  made,  Harrod 
hastily  followed.  His  first  question  was  for  the  White  Hawk  ; 
but  where  she  was,  no  one  knew.  Two  of  the  men  thought 
she  had  been  with  Miss  Perry ;  but  this,  Eunice  denied. 
Ransom  was  sure  that  she  came  to  him,  and  pointed  to  the 
sky,  while  he  was  carrying  in  the  dinner.  But  Harrod 
doubted  this,  and  the  old  man's  story  was  confused.  Were 
the  girls  together  ?  Had  the  same  enemy  pounced  on  both  ? 
Harrod  tried  to  think  so,  ani  to  make  Eunice  think  so.  But 


142  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Eunice  did  not  think  so.  She  thought  only  of  the  broken 
bit  of  tupelo,  and  of  this  little  white  cup  which  she  still 
clutched  in  her  hand.  From  the  first  moment  Eunice  had 
known  what  would  have  happened  to  her,  had  that  beast 
driven  her  out  over  the  water.  And  from  the  first  moment 
one  thought,  one  question,  had  ovenvhelmed  her,  "  What  shall 
I  say  to  him,  to  tell  him  that  I  let  his  darling  go,  for  one 
instant,  from  my  eye  ? " 

Then  Harrod  told  Ransom  that  he  must  stay  with  Miss 
Eunice  while  they  were  gone. 

Ransom  said  bluntly,  that  he  would  be  hanged  if  he  would  : 
Miss  Inez  was  not  far  away,  and  he  would  find  her  before 
the  whole  crew  on  'em  saw  any  thing  on  her. 

But  Harrod  called  him  away  from  the  throng. 

"  Ransom,  listen  to  me,"  he  said.  "  If  Miss  Perry  is  left 
alone  here,  she  will  go  crazy.  If  you  leave  her,  there  is  no 
one  who  can  say  one  word  to  her  all  the  time  we  are  gone. 
I  hope  and  believe  that  we  will  have  Miss  Inez  back  before 
an  hour ;  but  all  that  hour  she  has  got  to  sit  by  the  fire  here. 
You  do  not  mean  to  have  me  stay  with  her;  and  I  am 
sure  you  do  not  want  me  to  leave  her  with  one  of  those 
'  niggers.'  " 

Harrod  for  once  humored  the  old  man,  by  adopting  the 
last  word  from  his  vocabulary. 

".You're  right,  Mr.  Harrod;  I'd  better  stay.  'N'  I'll  bet 
ten  dollars,  now,  Miss  Inez'll  be  the  first  one  to  come  in  to 
the  fire,  while  you's  lookin'  after  her.  'Tain't  the  fust  time 
I've  known  her  off  after  dark  alone." 

"  God  grant  it ! "  said  Harrod ;  and  so  the  old  man  staid. 

But  Harrod  had  not  revealed,  either  to  Eunice  or  to  Ran 
som,  the  ground  for  anxiety  which  had  the  most  to  do  with 
his  determinations  and  dispositions.  In  the  hasty  examina 
tion  of  the  trail  which  he  made  when  he  first  searched  for 
the  girl,  and  afterwards  when  he,  with  Richards  and  King  — 
better  woodsmen  than  he  —  examined  the  path  which  they 
supposed  the  girl  had  taken,  and  the  well-marked  spot  at  the 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  143 

shoie  of  the  bayou,  where  the  beasts  came  to  water,  they  had 
found  no  print  of  Inez's  foot ;  but  they  had  found  perfectly 
denned  marks,  which  no  effort  had  been  made  to  conceal,  of 
an  Indian's  footprint.  Harrod  tried  to  think  it  was  White 
Hawk's,  and  pointed  to  Richards  the  smallness  of  the  moc- 
cason,  and  a  certain  peculiarity  of  tread  which  he  said  was 
hers.  Richards,  on  the  other  hand,  believed  that  it  was  the 
mark  of  an  Indian  boy  whom  he  described ;  that  he  had 
been  close  behind  Inez,  and  had  been  trying,  only  too  suc 
cessfully,  to  obliterate  every  footstep.  With  more  light,  of 
course,  there  might  have  been  more  chance  to  follow  these 
indications ;  but,  where  the  regular  trail  of  the  brutes  coming 
to  water  had  broken  the  bushes,  they  led  up  less  successfully ; 
and  the  indications  all  agreed,  that,  if  the  Apaches  were  to  be 
found  at  all,  it  was  by  the  prompt  push  which  they  were  now 
essaying. 

They  all  sprang  to  saddle ;  and  even  Harrod  tried  to  give 
cheerfulness  which  he  did  not  feel,  by  crying,  — 

"  They  have  more  than  an  hour's  start  of  us,  and  they  will 
ride  like  the  wind.  I  will  send  back  when  I  strike  the  trail  ; 
but  you  must  not  expect  us  before  midnight."  And  so  they 
were  gone. 

Poor  Eunice  Perry  sat  alone  by  the  camp-fire.  Not  two 
hours  ago  she  had  congratulated  herself,  and  had  let  Inez, 
dear  child,  congratulate  her,  because,  at  the  Brassos  River, 
more  than  half,  and  by  far  the  worst  half,  of  their  bold 
enterprise  was  over,  —  over,  and  well  over.  And  now,  one 
v/retched  hour,  in  which  she  had  been  more  careless  than 
she  could  believe,  and  all  was  night  and  horror.  Could  she 
be  the  same  living  being  that  she  was  this  afternoon? 
She  looked  in  the  embers,  and  saw  them  fade  away,  almost 
careless  to  renew  the  fire.  What  was  there  to  renew  it  for? 

Ransom,  with  the  true  chivalry  of  genuine  feeling,  left  her 
wholly  to  herself  for  all  this  first  agony  of  brooding.  When 
he  appeared,  it  was  to  put  dry  wood  on  the  coals. 

"  She'll  be  cold  when  she  comes  in.     Night's  cold      She 


144  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

didn't  know  she'd  be  gone  so  long."  This  was  in  a  soliloquy, 
addressed  only  to  the  embers. 

Then  he  turned  bravely  to  Eunice,  and,  bringing  up 
another  camp-stool  close  to  where  she  sat,  he  placed  upon  it 
the  little  silver  salver,  which  he  usually  kept  hid  away  in  his 
own  pack,  where  he  reserved  it  for  what  he  regarded  as  the 
state  occasions  of  the  journey. 

"  Drink  some  claret,  Miss  Eunice  ;  good  for  you  ;  keep  off 
the  night  air.  Some  o'  your  brother's  own  private  bin,  what 
he  keeps  for  himself  and  ye  mother,  if  she'd  ever  come  to  see 
him.  I  told  him  to  give  me  the  key  when  he  went  away ; 
told  him  you  might  need  some  o'  the  wine  ;  and  he  gin  it  to 
me.  Brought  a  few  bottles  along  with  me.  Knew  they 
wouldn't  be  no  good  wine  nowhere  ef  you  should  git  chilled. 
Told  him  to  give  me  the  key ;  his  own  bin.  Better  drink 
some,  Miss  Eunice." 

He  had  warmed  water,  had  mixed  his  sangaree  as  carefully 
as  if  they  had  all  been  at  the  plantation,  had  remembered 
every  fancy  of  Eunice's  in  concocting  it,  grating  nutmeg 
upon  it  from  her  own  silver  grater,  which  lay  in  his  stores, 
much  as  her  brother's  silver  waiter  did.  And  this  was 
brought  to  her  in  her  silver  cup,  as  she  sat  there  in  the 
darkness  in  the  wilderness,  with  her  life  darker  than  the 
night.  Eunice  was  wretched ;  but,  in  her  wretchedness,  she 
appreciated  the  faithful  creature's  care  ;  and,  to  please  him, 
she  made  an  effort  to  drink  something,  and  sat  with  the  gob 
let  in  her  hand. 

"  It  is  very  good,  Ransom :  it  is  just  what  I  want ;  and 
you  are  very  kind  to  think  of  it." 

Ransom  leaned  over  to  change  the  way  in  which  the  sticks 
lay  across  the  fire.  Then  he  began  again,  — 

"  Jest  like  her  mother,  she  is.  Don't  ye  remember  night 
her  mother  scared  us  all  jest  so  ?  Got  lost  jest  as  Miss  Inez 
has,  and  ye  brother  was  half  crazy.  No,  ye  don't  remember  • 
ye  never  see  her.  Ye  brother  was  half  crazy,  he  was.  Her 
mother  got  lost  jest  as  Miss  Inez  has  ;  scared  all  on  us  jest 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  145 

so.  She's  jest  like  her  mother,  Miss  Inez  is.  I  said  so  to 
Mr.  Harrod  only  yesterday." 

Eunice  \\as  too  dead  to  try  to  answer  him  ;  and,  without 
answer,  the  old  man  went  on  in  a  moment,  — 

"  We  wos  out  on  the  plantation.  It  wos  in  the  fall,  jest  as 
it  is  now.  It  wos  the  fust  year  after  ye  brother  bought  this 
place  ;  didn't  have  no  such  good  place  on  the  river  before  : 
had  the  old  place  hired  of  Walker. 

"  After  he  bought  this  place,  cos  she  liked  it,  —  two  years 
afore  this  one  was  born,  —  it  wos  in  the  fall,  jest  as  it  is 
now  "  — 

"  I'd  sent  all  the  niggers  to  bed,  I  had,  'n  wos  jest  lookin' 
'round  'fore  I  locked  up,  w'en  ye  brother  come  up  behind  me, 
white  as  a  sheet,  he  was.  '  Ransom,'  says  he,  *  where's  ye 
missus  ? " 

"  Scared  me  awfully,  he  did,  Miss  Eunice.  I  didn't  know 
more'n  the  dead  where  she  wos ;  'n  I  said,  says  I,  '  Isn't 
she  in  her  own  room  ? '  —  '  Ransom,'  says  he,  '  she  isn't  in 
any  room  in  the  house  ;  'n  none  on  'em  seen  her,'  says  he, 
'  since  she  had  a  cup  o'  tea  sent  to  her  in  the  settin'-room,' 
says  he  ;  '  'n  it  wasn't  dark  then,'  says  he. 

"  'N  none  on  'em  knew  where  she  wos  or  where  she'd 
gone.  Well,  Miss  Eunice,  they  all  loved  her,  them  darkeys 
did,  jest  as  these  niggers,  all  on  'em,  loves  this  one ;  and, 
w'en  I  went  round  to  ask  'em  where  she  wos,  they  run  this 
way  an'  that  way,  and  none  on  'em  found  her.  'N  in  an 
hour  she  come  in  all  right :  got  lost  down  on  the  levee,  — 
went  wrong  way  'n  got  lost ;  had  been  down  to  see  how  old 
Chloe's  baby  was,  'n  got  lost  comin'  home.  Wosn't  scared 
herself  one  bit,  —  never  was  scared,  —  wosn't  scared  at 
nothin'.  Miss  Inez  just  like  her  mother." 

Now  there  was  a  long  pause ;  but  Eunice  did  not  want  to 
discourage  him,  though  she  knew  he  would  not  encourage 
her. 

"  Tell  me  more  about  her  mother,  Ransom." 

"Woll,  Miss  Eunice,  ye  know  how  handsome  she  wos. 


146  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

That  'ere  picter  hangs  in  the  salon  ain't  half  handsome 
enough  for  her.  Painted  in  Paris  it  wos,  fust  time  they  went 
over :  ain't  half  handsome  enough  for  her.  Miss  Inez  is 
more  like  her,  she  is. 

"  She  wos  real  good  to  'em  all,  she  wos,  ma'am.  She  wos 
quiet  like,  not  like  the  French  ladies ;  'n  when  they  come 
and  see  her,  they  knowed  she  wos  more  of  a  lady  than  they 
wos,  'n  they  didn't  care  to  see  her  much,  'n  she  didn't  care 
to  see  them  much.  But  she  wos  good  to  'em  all.  Wos  good 
to  the  niggers :  all  the  niggers  liked  her. 

"  Took  on  a  good  deal,  and  wos  all  broke  down,  when  she 
come  from  the  Havannah  to  this  place.  Kissed  this  one, 
Dolores  here,  that  we's  goin'  to  see,  —  kissed  her  twenty 
times ;  'n  Dolores  says  to  me,  says  she,  —  that's  this  one, — 
she  says,  says  she,  in  her  funny  Spanish  way,  '  Ransom,  take 
care  of  her  ev'ry  day  and  ev'ry  night ;  'n,  Ransom,  when  you 
bring  her  back  to  me,'  says  she,  '  I'll  give  you  a  gold  doub 
loon,'  says  she.  'N  she  laughed,  'n  I  laughed,  'n  we  made 
this  one  laugh,  —  Miss  Inez's  mother.  She  did  not  like  to 
come  away,  'n  took  on  a  good  deal." 

Another  pause,  in  which  Ransom  wistfully  contemplated 
the  sky. 

"  Took  her  to  ride  myself,  I  did,  ev'ry  time,  after  this  one 
was  born,  —  I  did.  Coachman  didn't  know  nothin'.  Poor 
crittur,  ye  brother  got  rid  on  him  afterward.  No :  he  died. 
I  drove  the  kerridge  myself,  I  did,  after  this  one  was  born. 
She  was  dreadful  pleased  with  her  baby,  cos  it  wos  a  gal,  'n 
she  wanted  a  gal,  'n  she  took  it  to  ride  ev'ry  day ;  'n  she 
says  to  me, '  Ransom,'  says  she,  '  we  must  make  this  a  Yankee 
baby,  like  her  father,'  says  she.  She  says,  says  she, '  Ransom, 
next  spring,'  says  she, '  we  will  carry  the  baby  to  Boston,' 
says  she,  '  'n  show  'em  what  nice  babies  we  have  down  here 
in  Orleans,'  says  she.  'N  she  says  to  me,  says  she  one  day, 
when  she  had  had  a  bad  turn  o'  coughin',  '  Ransom,'  says 
she,  'you'll  take  as  nice  care  of  her  as  ye  do  of  me,'  says  she ; 
*  won't  you,  Ransom  ? '  says  she. 


OK,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  147 

"  And  you  said  you  would,  Ransom,  I'm  sure,"  said  Eunice 
kindly,  seeing  that  the  old  man  would  say  no  more. 

"  Guess  I  did,  ma'am.  She  needn't  said  nothin'.  Never 
thought  o'  doin'  nothin'  else.  Knew  none  on  'em  didn't 
know  nothin'  'cept  ye  brother  till  you  come  down,  ma'am. 
It  was  a  hard  year,  ma'am,  before  you  come  down.  Didn't 
none  on  'em  know  nothin'  'cept  ye  brother." 

Eunice  was  heard  to  say  afterward  that  the  implied  compli 
ment  in  these  words  was  the  greatest  praise  she  had  ever 
received  from  human  lips ;  but  at  the  time  she  was  too 
wretched  to  be  amused. 

There  was  not  now  a  long  time  to  wait,  however,  before 
they  could  hear  the  rattle  of  hoofs  upon  the  road  they  had 
been  following  all  day. 

It  was  Harrod's  first  messenger,  the  least  competent  negro 
in  his  train.  He  had  sent  him  back  to  relieve  Eunice  as  far 
as  might  be  with  this  line,  hurriedly  written  on  a  scrap  of 
brown  paper :  — 

"  We  have  found  the  rascals'  trail  —  very  warm.  I  write  this  by  their 
own  fire.  H." 

The  man  said  that  they  came  upon  the  fire  still  blazing, 
about  three  miles  from  camp.  King  and  Adams  and  Capt. 
Harrod  dismounted,  studied  the  trail  by  the  light  of  burning 
brands,  and  were  satisfied  that  the  camp  had  been  made  by 
Indians,  who  had  followed  our  travellers  along  on  the  trail, 
and  now  had  turned  suddenly.  King  had  said  it  was  not  a 
large  party ;  and  Capt.  Harrod  had  only  taken  a  moment 
to  write  what  he  had  sent  to  Miss  Eunice,  before  they  were 
all  in  the  saddle  again  and  in  pursuit. 

So  far,  so  good.  And  now  must  begin  another  desperate 
pull  at  that  wait-wait-wait,  in  which  one's  heart's  blood  drops 
out  most  surely,  if  most  slowly. 

Old  Ransom  tended  his  fire  more  sedulously  than  ever, 
and  made  it  larger  and  larger. 

"  She'll  be  all  chilled  when  she  comes  in,"  said  he  again, 


148  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

by  way  of  explanation.  But  this  was  not  his  only  reason 
He  bade  Louis  go  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and  bring  up  to 
him  wet  bark,  and  bits  of  floating  wood.  He  sent  the  man 
again  and  again  on  this  errand ;  and,  as  fast  as  his  fire  would 
well  bear  it,  he  thrust  the  wet  sticks  into  the  embers  and 
under  the  logs.  The  column  of  steam,  mingling  with  the 
smoke,  rose  high  into  the  murky  sky ;  and  the  light  from  the 
blaze  below  gave  to  it  ghastly  forms,  as  it  curled  on  one  side 
or  the  other  in  occasional  puffs  of  wind. 

Tired  and  heart-sick,  Eunice  lay  back  on  her  couch,  with 
her  tent-door  opened,  and  watched  the  wayward  column. 
Even  in  her  agony  some  sickly  remembrance  of  Eastern  genii 
came  over  her ;  and  she  knew  that  the  wretched  wish  passed 
her,  that  she  might  wake  up  to  find  that  this  was  all  a  phan 
tasm,  a  fairy  tale,  or  a  dream. 

So  another  hour  crawled  by.  Then  came  a  sound  of 
crackling  twigs ;  and  poor  Eunice  sprang  to  her  feet  again, 
only  to  meet  the  face  of  the  negro  Harry,  returning  from  his 
tour  of  duty.  He  had  worked  up  the  stream,  as  he  had  been 
directed ;  he  had  tried  every  access  to  the  water.  He  said 
he  had  screamed  and  called,  and  whooped,  but  heard  nothing 
but  owls.  The  man  was  as  fearless  of  the  night  or  of  loneli 
ness  as  any  plantation  slave  used  to  the  open  sky.  But  he 
had  thought,  and  rightly  enough,  that  his  duty  for  the  night 
was  at  an  end  when  he  had  made  a  tramp  longer  than  was 
possible  to  so  frail  a  creature  as  Inez  ;  and  came  back  only 
to  report  failure.  He  was  dragging  with  him  a  long  bough 
for  the  fire  ;  and  it  was  the  grating  of  this  upon  the  ground 
which  gave  warning  of  his  approach. 

Nothing  for  it,  Eunice,  but  to  lie  down  again,  and  watch 
that  weird  white  column,  and  the  black  forms  of  the  three 
men  hovering  about  it.  Not  a  footfall,  not  even  the  sighing 
-of  the  trees  :  the  night  is  so  still !  It  would  be  less  weird 
-and  terrible  if  any  thing  would  cry  aloud.  But  all  nature 
.seems  to  be  .waiting  too. 


OK,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  149 

A  halloo  from  Richards  —  who  comes  stalking  in,  cioss, 
wet,  unsuccessful,  and  uncommunicative. 

"  No  —  see  nothin'.  Knew  I  shouldn't  see  nothin'.  All 
darned  nonsense  of  the  cappen's  sending  me  thar.  Told 
him  so  w'en  I  started,  that  she  hadn't  gone  that  way,  and  I 
knew  it  as  well  as  he  did.  Fired  my  rifle  ?  Yes,  fired  every 
charge  I  had.  Didn't  have  but  five,  and  fired  'em  all.  She 
didn't  hear  'em ;  no,  cos  she  wasn't  there  to  hear  'em. 
Hain't  you  got  a  chaw  of  tobacco,  Ransom  ?  or  give  a  fellow 
somethin'  to  drink.  If  you  was  as  wet  as  I  be,  you'd  think 
you  wanted  sunthin  !  " 

Wait  on,  Eunice,  wait  on.  Go  back  to  your  lair,  and  lie 
upon  your  couch.  Do  not  listen  to  Richards's  grumbling :  try 
to  keep  down  these  horrible  imaginings  of  struggles  in  water, 
of  struggles  with  Indians,  of  faintness  and  death  of  cold. 
"  Sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof." 

Yes :  poor  Eunice  thinks  all  that  out.  "  But  is  not  this 
moment  the  very  moment  when  my  darling  is  dying,  and  I 
lying  powerless  here  ?  Why  did  I  not  go  with  them  ? " 

"  Too-oo  —  too-oo  "  — 

"  Is  that  an  owl  ?  " 

"  Hanged  if  it's  an  owl.     Hark  !  " 

"Whoo  —  whoo  —  whoo  —  whoo,"  repeated  rapidly  twenty 
times  ;  and  then  again,  "  Whoo  —  whoo  —  whoo  —  whoo," 
twenty  times  more,  as  rapidly. 

Ransom  seized  his  gun,  fired  it  in  the  air,  and  ran  toward 
the  sound.  Eunice  followed  him,  gazing  out  into  the 
night. 

"  Whoo  —  whoo  —  whoo  —  whoo,"  more  slowly ;  and  then 
Ransom's,  "  Hurrah  !  All  right,  ma'am.  She's  here,"  through 
the  darkness. 

And  then,  in  one  glad  minute  more,  he  had  brought  Inez 
in  his  arms ;  and  her  arms  were  around  her  aunt's  neck,  as 
if  nothing  on  earth  should  ever  part  them  more. 

The  White  Hawk  had  brought  her  in. 


'5° 


PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 


And  now  the  White  Hawk  dragged  her  to  the  fire,  pulled 
off  the  moccasons  that  were  on  her  feet,  and  began  chafing 
her  feet,  ankles,  and  legs,  while  Ransom  was  trying  to  make 
her  drink,  and  Eunice  kneeling,  oh  !  so  happy  in  her  anxiety, 
at  the  poor  girl's  side. 


OR.  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

NIGHT  AND  DAY. 

"  The  camp  affords  the  hospitable  rite, 
And  pleased  they  sleep  (the  blessing  of  the  night) ; 
But  when  Aurora,  daughter  of  the  dawn, 
With  rosy  lustre  purpled  o'er  the  lawn, 
Again  they  mount,  the  journey  to  renew."  —  Odyssey. 

WITH  the  first  instant  of  relief,  old  Ransom  bade  Harry 
saddle  the  bay  mare,  which  Ransom  had  never  before  been 
known  to  trust  to  any  human  being  but  himself.  With  an 
eager  intensity  which  we  need  not  try  to  set  down  in  words, 
he  bade  him  push  the  mare  to  her  best,  till  he  had  overtaken 
the  captain,  and  told  him  the  lost  was  found. 

Meanwhile  poor  little  Inez  was  only  able  to  speak  in  little 
loving  ejaculations  to  her  aunt,  to  soothe  her,  and  to  cry  with 
her,  to  be  cried  with,  and  to  be  soothed. 

"  Dear  auntie,  dear  auntie,  where  did  you  think  I  was  ?  " 
and,  — 

"  My  darling,  my  darling,  how  could  I  lose  sight  of  you  ? " 

And  the  White  Hawk  —  happy,  strong,  cheerful,  and  loving 
—  was  the  one  "  effective  "  of  the  three. 

But  Ransom  had  not  chosen  wrongly  in  his  prevision  for 
her  return.  "  Knew  ye'd  be  cold  w'en  ye  come  in,  Miss 
Inez ;  knew  ye  warn't  drowned,  and  warn't  gone  far."  He 
had  a  buffalo-skin  hanging  warming,  ready  for  her  to  lie 
upon.  He  brought  a  camp-stool  for  her  head  to  rest  upon, 
as  she  looked  into  the  embers.  And  when  Eunice  was  satis 
fied  at  last  that  no  hair  of  her  darling's  head  was  hurt ;  when 


152  PHILIP  NOLAN1  S  FRIENDS; 

she  saw  her  fairly  sipping  and  enjoying  Ransom's  jorum  of 
claret ;  when  at  last  he  brought  in  triumph  soup  which  he 
had  in  waiting  somewhere,  and  the  girl  owned  she  was  hun 
gry,  —  why,  then  Eunice  as  she  lay  at  her  side,  and  fed  her 
and  fondled  her,  was  perhaps  the  happiest  creature,  at  that 
moment,  in  the  world. 

And  when  words  came  at  last,  and  rational  questions  and 
answers,  Inez  could  tell  but  little  which  the  reader  does  not 
already  know ;  nor  could  they  then  learn  much  more  from 
White  Hawk,  with  language  so  limited  as  was  theirs. 

"  Panther  ?  yes,  horrid  brute !  I  have  seemed  to  see  him 
all  night  since.  When  it  was  darkest,  I  wondered  if  I  did 
not  see  the  yellow  of  those  dreadful  eyes. 

"  Apaches  ?  No,  I  saw  no  Indians,  nor  thought  of  them  ; 
only  my  darling  '  Ma-ry '  here  ; "  and  she  turned  to  fondle  the 
proud  girl,  who  knew  that  she  was  to  be  fondled.  "  O  Ma-ry, 
my  sweetheart,  how  I  wish  you  knew  what  I  am  saying ! 
Why,  Eunice,  when  I  thought  it  was  my  last  prayer,  when  1 
asked  the  good  God  to  comfort  you  and  dear  papa,"  —  here 
her  voice  choked,  —  "I  could  not  help  praying  for  dear 
'  Ma-ry/  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  her  poor  mother,  and 
the  agony  in  which  she  carried  this  child  along.  And  then, 
why,  Eunice,  it  was  not  long  after,  that  all  of  a  sudden  I  was 
lying  in  her  arms,  and  she  was  cooing  to  me  and  rubbing  me; 
and  I  thought  for  a  moment  I  was  in  bed  at  home,  and  it 
was  you  ;  and  then  I  remembered  again.  And,  dear  auntie, 
what  a  blessing  it  was  to  knew  I  was  not  alone  ! " 

In  truth,  the  brave  girl  had  held  resolute  to  her  purpose. 
She  would  save  her  voice  till,  at  the  end  of  every  fifty  sentry 
turns,  she  would  stop  and  give  her  war-whoop  and  other 
alarm-cry.  Then  she  would  keep  herself  awake  by  walking, 
walking,  walking,  though  she  were  almost  dead,  till  she  had 
made  fifty  turns  more ;  and  then  she  would  stop  and  scream 
again.  How  often  she  had  done  this,  she  did  not  know : 
Eunice  could  guess  better  than  she.  Nor  did  she  know  how 
it  ended.  She  must  have  stumbled  and  fallen.  She  knew 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS?  153 

she  walked  at  last  very  clumsily  and  heavily :  all  else  she 
knew  was,  as  she  said,  that  she  came  to  herself  lying  on  the 
ground,  while  White  Hawk  was  rubbing  her  hands,  and  then 
her  feet,  and  that  White  Hawk  would  say  little  tender  things 
to  her,  —  would  say,  "  Ma-ry,"  and  would  stop  in  her  rubbing 
to  kiss  her ;  then,  that  White  Hawk  pulled  off  those  horrid 
wet  stockings  and  moccasons  which  she  had  been  tramping  in, 
and  took  from  her  own  bosom  a  pair  dry  and  .strong,  —  "  oh, 
how  good  it  felt,  auntie !  "  —  and  then,  tha<  White  Hawk 
made  her  rest  on  her  shoulder,  and  walk  with  her  a  little,  till 
she  thought  she  was  tired,  and  then  sat  down  with  her,  and 
would  rub  her,  and  talk  to  her  again. 

"  How  in  the  world  did  she  know  the  way  ?  " 

"  Heaven  knows  !  She  would  stop  and  listen  :  she  would 
put  her  ear  to  the  ground,  and  listen.  At  last  she  made  me 
sit  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  while  she  climbed  like  a  squirrel, 
auntie,  to  the  very  top ;  and  then  she  came  down,  and  she 
pointed,  and  after  she  pointed  she  worked  always  this  way. 
She  made  this  sign,  auntie ;  and  this  must  be  the  sign  for 
'  fire.' " 

The  girl  brought  her  hands  near  her  breast,  half  shut,  till 
they  touched  each  other,  and  then  moved  them  quickly  out 
ward.  Both  of  them  turned  to  White  Hawk,  who  was  listen 
ing  carefully ;  and  they  pointed  to  the  embers,  as  Inez  renewed 
the  sign.  White  Hawk  nodded  and  smiled,  but  repeated  it, 
extending  her  fingers,  and  separating  her  hands,  as  if  in 
parody  of  the  waving  of  flame.  This  part  of  the  gesture 
poor  Inez  had  not  seen  in  the  darkness. 

From  the  moment  White  Hawk  had  seen  Ransom's  white 
and  rosy  column  of  smoke,  it  had  been  a  mere  question  of 
time.  By  every  loving  art,  she  had  made  the  way  easy  for 
her  charge.  She  would  have  lifted  her,  had  Inez  permitted. 
"  But,  auntie,  I  could  have  walked  miles.  I  was  strong  as  a 
lion  then." 

Lion  or  lamb,  after  she  was  roasted  as  a  jubilee  ox  might 
have  been,  she  said,  her  two  nurses  dragged  her  to  her  tent 
and  to  bed. 


154  PHILIP  NOLAN1  S  FRIENDS; 

"  It  is  too  bad,  auntie !  I  ought  to  thank  dear  Capt 
Harrod,  and  all  of  them.  Such  a  goose  as  to  turn  night  into 
day,  and  send  them  riding  over  the  world  !  " 

All  the  same  they  undressed  her,  and  put  her  to  bed  ;  and 
such  is  youth  in  its  omnipotence,  whether  to  act,  to  suffer,  or 
to  sleep,  that  in  five  minutes  the  dear  child  was  unconscious 
of  cold,  of  darkness,  or  of  terror. 

And  Eunice  did  her  best  to  resist  the  reaction  which  crept 
over  her,  oh,  so  sweetly  !  after  her  hours  of  terror.  But  she 
would  start  again  and  again,  as  she  lay  upon  her  couch.  One 
instant  she  said  to  herself,  — 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  am  quite  awake  !  I  never  was  more  wakeful. 
But  what  has  happened  to  them  ?  Will  they  never  be  here  ? " 
And  the  next  instant  she  would  be  bowing  to  the  First 
Consul,  as  Mr.  Perry  presented  her  as  his  sister,  and  renewed 
his  old  acquaintance  with  Mme.  Josephine,  once  Beauharnais. 
Then  she  would  start  up  from  her  couch,  and  walk  out  to  the 
fire,  and  Ransom  would  advise  her  to  go  back  to  her  tent.  At 
last,  however,  just  when  he,  good  fellow !  would  have  had  it 
(for  his  preparation  of  creature  comforts  for  the  scouting 
party  was  made  on  a  larger  scale,  if  on  a  coarser,  than  those 
for  Miss  Inez),  the  welcome  tramp  of  rapid  hoofs  was  heard ; 
and  in  five  minutes  more  Harrod  swung  himself  from  the 
saddle  by  the  watch-fire,  and  was  eagerly  asking  her  for  news. 

For  himself,  he  had  but  little  to  tell.  Since  all  was  well 
at  home,  it  would  wait  till  breakfast. 

"  What  have  you  got  for  us  now,  Ransom  ?  a  little  whiskey  ? 
Yes,  that's  enough ;  that's  enough.  The  others  are  just 
behind." 

Then,  turning  to  Eunice,  — 

"Yes,  Miss  Perry.  All  is  well  that  ends  well.  I  have 
said  that  to  myself  and  aloud  for  this  hour's  gallop. — 
Ransom !  Ransom !  don't  let  those  fools  take  her  to  water. 
Make  Louis  rub  her  dry.  —  Yes,  Miss  Perry,  we  found  the 
rascals'  fire.  God  forgive  me  for  calling  them  rascals  !  They 
are  sa'nts  in  white,  for  all  I  know.  But  really,  —  this  whiskey 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  155 

does  go  to  the  right  place  !  — but  really,  when  you  have  been 
trying  to  ride  down  a  crew  of  pirates  for  a  couple  of  hours,  it 
is  hard  to  turn  round  and  believe  they  were  honest  men. 

"  Yes,  we  found  their  fire  ;  and,  if  I  ever  thanked  God,  it 
was  then,  Miss  Perry.  Though  why,  if  they  were  after  the 
girls,  why  they  should  have  built  a  fire  just  there  by  that  little 
wet  prairie,  I  could  not  tell  myself.  Still  there  was  the  fire. 
Up  till  that  moment,  Miss  Eunice,  —  up  till  that  moment,  — 
I  believed  she  was  stark  and  dead  under  the  water  of  the 
bayou.  I  may  as  well  tell  you  so  now,"  and  he  choked  as 
he  said  it;  and  she  pressed  his  hand,  as  if  she  would  say  she 
had  been  as  sure  of  this  as  he. 

"Yes,  I  thought  that  the  painter  there,  or  the  Indians,  or 
both  together,  had  driven  her  out  on  that  infernal  cotton- 
wood  log  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Eunice  :  I  am  sure  the 
log  has  done  me  no  harm  ;  but  I  thought  we  were  never  to 
see  her  dear  face  again."  And  he  stopped,  and  wiped  the 
tears  from  his  eyes  with  the  back  of  his  hand. 

"  So  I  thanked  God  when  I  saw  their  fire,  because  that 
confirmed  what  all  the  rest  of  them  said.  And  we  got  off 
our  horses,  and  we  could  see  the  trail  was  warm  :  they  went 
off  in  a  hurry.  Why  they  did  not  put  their  fire  out,  I  did  not 
know,  more  than  why  they  lighted  it. 

"  If  we  could  have  made  a  stern  chase,  as  Ransom  would 
say,  we  would  have  overhauled  them  soon  ;  but  this  I  did 
not  dare.  King  knew  from  what  he  saw  this  morning  how 
to  take  us  round  the  edge  of  that  wet  prairie,  —  by  a  trail 
they  had  followed  by  mistake  then  ;  and  he  said  we  could 
head  them  as  they  travelled,  at  the  sloo  where  we  lunched,  if 
you  remember.  For  we  could  see  that  they  had  one  lame 
mule  at  least.  They  seemed  to  have  but  few  beasts  any 
way ;  and  of  course  none  of  them  was  a  match  for  Bet  there, 
or  for  that  Crow,  the  bay  that  King  rides.  So  I  took  him 
with  me,  told  the  others  to  keep  the  main  trail  slowly ;  and 
sure  enough,  in  an  hour,  more  or  less,  King  had  me  jusl 
where  you  and  Miss  Inez  lay  under  that  red-oak  to-day. 


156  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"  And  there  we  waited  and  waited ;  not  long,  i  .ot  long. 
We  could  hear  them  grunting  and  paddling  along,  and  beat 
ing  the  mule,  till  I  stepped  out,  and  struck  an  old  fellow  over 
the  shoulder,  and  cocked  my  pistol.  They  do  not  know 
much,  but  they  knew  what  that  meant.  They  all  stopped 
meek  as  mice,  for  they  thought  I  was  an  army. 

"  But,  good  heavens !  there  were  but  four  of  ther  i ;  three 
old  men  and  a  squaw,  and  these  four  miserable  brutes.  It 
was  no  war-party,  that  was  clear.  I  could  have  talked  to 
them  if  it  were  daylight ;  but  now  it  was  as  much  as  ever  I 
could  see  them,  or  they  me.  King  understood  none  of  their 
gibberish,  nor  I.  I  hoped  perhaps  Adams  might ;  mean 
while  I  tied  the  old  fellow  hand  and  foot :  he  did  not  resist, 
none  of  them  resisted.  In  a  minute  the  others  came  up  ;  and 
then  we  struck  a  light,  and,  after  some  trouble,  made  a  fire. 

"  Then,  when  we  could  see,  I  began  to  talk  to  them  in 
gestures  ;  and  now  I  can  afford  to  laugh  at  it :  then  I  was 
too  anxious  and  too  mad. 

"  I  went  at  the  old  man.  You  should  have  seen  me.  He 
said  "he  could  not  answer  because  his  hands  were  tied,  which 
was  reasonable.  So  I  untied  him,  but  told  him  I  would  blow 
his  brains  out  if  he  tried  to  run  away.  At  least,  I  think  he 
knew  I  would. 

"  I  asked  him  where  the  girls  were. 

"  He  said  we  had  them  with  us. 

"  I  told  him  he  lied. 

"  He  said  I  did. 

"  I  asked  him  again  where  they  were,  and  threatened  him 
with  the  pistol. 

"  He  said  he  knew  nothing  of  the  girl  with  the  long  feather, 
since  she  sat  there  with  her  back  to  the  oak-tree,  and  mended 
the  lacing  of  her  shoe. 

"  Only  think,  Miss  Eunice,  how  the  dogs  watch  us ! 

"  As  for  White  Hawk,  he  said  he  sold  her  to  Father 
Andre's  for  the  lame  mule  he  had  been  riding,  and  that  he 
supposed  Father  Andre's  sold  her  to  me ;  that  he  had  not 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  157 

seen  her  since  I  mounted  you  ladies,  and  White  Hawk  went 
on  in  advance.  He  said  they  staid  and  picked  up  what 
dinner  the  men  had  left,  and  ate  it,  as  they  had  every  day. 

"  I  asked  him  why  he  left  his  fire.  He  said  they  were 
frightened.  They  knew  we  were  in  the  saddle,  and  they 
were  afraid,  because  they  had  stolen  the  blacksmith's  ham 
mer  and  the  ham-bones :  so  they  mounted  and  fled. 

"  Well,  you  know,  I  thought  this  was  an  Indian's  lie,  —  a 
lie  all  full  of  truth.  I  told  him  so.  I  took  him,  and  tied  him 
to  a  tree,  and  I  tied  the  other  man  and  the  big  boy.  The 
woman  I  did  not  tie  :  Miss  Eunice,  applaud  me  for  that.  I 
believe  you  have  a  tender  heart  to  the  redskins ;  and  I  deter 
mined  to  wait  till  morning.  But  in  half  an  hour  I  heard  the 
rattle  of  the  mare's  heels,  and  up  came  Harry  to  say  that  all 
was  well." 

"  And  all's  well  that  ends  well." 

"  Yes,  Ransom :  no  matter  \vhat  it  is.  I  did  not  know  I 
should  ever  feel  hungry  again. 

"  But,  dear  Miss  Perry,  how  thoughtless  I  am  !  For  the 
love  of  Heaven,  pray  go  into  your  tent,  and  go  to  sleep. 
How  can  we  be  grateful  enough  that  she  is  safe  ? " 

Then  he  called  her  back. 

"  Stop  one  moment,  Miss  Perry :  we  are  very  near  each 
other  now.  What  may  happen  before  morning,  none  of  us 
know.  I  must  say  to  you,  therefore,  now,  what  but  for  this 
I  suppose  I  should  not  have  dared  to  say  to  you,  —  that  she  is 
dearer  to  me  than  my  life.  If  we  had  not  found  her,  oh, 
Miss  Perry,  I  should  have  died !  I  would  have  tried  to  do 
my  duty  by  you,  indeed;  but  my  heart  would  have  been 
broken. 

"Yes.  I  knew  how  eager  you  were,  and  how  wretched. 
Pray  understand  that  my  wretchedness  and  my  loss  would 
have  been  the  same  as  yours.  Good-night !  God  bless  her 
and  you  ! " 

A  revelation  so  abrupt  startled  Eunice,  if  it  did  not  wholly 
surprise  her.  But  she  was  too  completely  exhausted  by  her 


158  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

excitements  of  every  kind  even  to  try  to  think,  or  to  try  to 
answer.  She  did  not  so  much  as  speak,  as  he  tarned  away, 
and  only  bade  him  good-by  by  her  kindly  look  and  sm.le. 

It  was  late  when  they  met  at  breakfast.  Harrod  would 
gladly  have  permitted  a  day's  halt  after  the  fatigues  of  the 
night,  but  not  here.  They  must  make  a  part  of  the  day's 
march ;  and  already  all  of  the  train  which  could  be  prepared 
was  ready  for  a  start.  Inez  appeared  even  later  than  the 
others ;  but  she  was  ready  dressed  for  travelling.  The 
White  Hawk  welcomed  her  as  fondly  and  proudly  as  if  she 
were  her  mother,  and  had  gained  some  right  of  property  in 
her.  Eunice  was  so  fond  and  so  happy,  and  Harrod  said 
frankly  that  he  did  not  dare  to  tell  her  how  happy  the  good 
news  made  him  when  it  came  to  him. 

"  Woe's  me,"  said  poor  Inez,  hardly  able  to  keep  from  cry 
ing.  "  Woe's  me,  that,  because  I  was  a  fool,  brave  men  have 
had  to  ride,  and  fair  women  to  watch !  You  need  none  of 
you  be  afraid  that  I  shall  ever  stray  two  inches  from  home 
again." 

But,  as  she  ate,  Harrod  drew  from  her,  bit  by  bit,  her  own 
account  of  her  wanderings. 

"  And  to  think,"  said  he,  "  that  this  girl  here  knows  how  to 
follow  a  trail  better  than  I  do,  and  finds  one  that  I  have  lost ! 
I  believe  the  flowers  rise  under  your  tread,  Miss  Inez ;  for  on 
the  soft  ground  yonder  by  the  lick  we  could  not  find  your 
foot-tread.  Could  it  have  been  hers  that  frightened  me  so  ?  " 

Then  he  told  her  how  they  were  sure  they  caught  the  traces 
of  an  Indian  boy,  and  thought  he  had  been  stepping  with  his 
feet  turned  outward  in  her  footprints. 

"  And  pray  what  did  you  think  I  wore,  captain  ?  I  had 
taken  off  my  shoes,  and  I  was  walking  in  the  moccasons  the 
Senora  TreVino  gave  me  at  Nacogdoches." 

"  And  I  did  not  know  your  footfall  when  I  saw  it.  I  will 
never  call  myself  a  woodsman  again  I  " 


OR.  "SffOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  159 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

A  PACKET  OF   LETTERS. 

"  I  warrant  he  hath  a  thousand  of  these  letters." 

Merry  Wives  if  Windsor. 

BUT  it  is  time  that  the  reader  should  welcome  the  party  of 
travellers,  no  longer  enthusiastic  about  camp-life,  to  the 
hospitalities  —  wholly  unlike  any  thing  Inez  had  ever  seen 
before  —  of  San  Antonio  de  Bexar. 

The  welcome  of  her  dear  aunt,  of  Major  Barelo,  —  who 
held  the  rank  of  a/farer,  which  in  these  pages  will  be  trans 
lated  "major,"  —  indeed,  one  may  say,  of  all  the  gentlemen 
and  ladies  of  the  garrison,  had  been  most  cordial.  The 
energy  of  the  march  made  it  a  matter  of  nine  days'  wonder ; 
and  the  young  Spanish  gentlemen  thanked  all  gods  and 
goddesses  for  the  courage  which  had  brought,  by  an  adven 
ture  so  bold,  such  charming  additions  to  the  circle  of  their 
society.  Donna  Maria  Dolores  was  not  disappointed  in  her 
niece;  nor  was  she  nearly  so  much  terrified  by  this  wild 
American  sister-in-law  as  she  had  expected ;  and  Inez  found 
her  aunt,  ah !  ten  times  more  lovely  than  she  had  dared  to 
suppose. 

But  the  impressions  of  both  ladies  will  be  best  given  b> 
the  transcript  of  three  of  their  letters,  —  which  have  escaped 
the  paper-mills  of  three-quarters  of  a  century,  —  written 
about  a  week  after  their  arrival.  True,  these  letters  were 
written  with  a  painful  uncertainty  lest  they  were  to  be  in 
spected  by  some  Spanish  official.  They  were  severely  guarded, 


100  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS: 

therefore,  in  any  thing  which  might  convict  Nolan  or  Harrod, 
or  their  humbler  adherents.  For  the  rest,  they  describe  the 
position  of  the  ladies  sufficiently. 

INEZ  PERRY  TO  HER  FATHER. 

IN  MY  OWN  ROOM,  SAN  ANTONIO  DE  BEXAR, 
Nov.  26,  1800. 

DEAR,  DEAR  PAPA,  —  Can  you  believe  it  ?  We  are  really  here.  See, 
I  write  you  in  my  own  room,  which  dear  Aunt  Dolores  has  arranged  for 
me  just  as  kindly  as  can  be.  I  would  not  for  the  world  tell  her  how 
funny  it  all  is  to  me  ;  for  she  has  done  every  thing  to  make  it  French  or 
American,  or  to  please  what  are  supposed  to  be  my  whims.  But,  if  you 
saw  it,  you  would  laugh  so,  papa !  and  so  would  Roland,  if  he  is  any  thing 
like  you. 

I  shall  write  Roland  a  letter,  and  it  will  go  in  the  same  cover  with 
this.  But  he  must  not  cry,  as  you  used  to  say  to  me,  if  I  write  to  you 
first  of  all. 

I  have  kept  my  journal  very  faithfully,  as  I  said  I  would  ;  and  some 
day  you  shall  see  it  But  not  now,  dear  papa ;  for  the  general  —  Herrara, 
you  know —  is  very  kind  to  let  this  go  at  all,  and  it  must  be  the  smallest 
letter  that  I  know  how  to  make,  and  Roland's  too. 

I  think  you  were  wholly  right  about  the  journey,  dear  papa  ;  and  if  we 
had  it  to  do  over  again  you  would  think  that  this  was  the  way  to  do  it,  if 
you  knew  all  that  we  have  seen  and  all  that  we  have  enjoyed,  and  even 
if  you  knew  all  the  inconveniences.  It  has  been  just  as  you  said,  that  I 
have  learned  ever  so  many  things  which  I  should  never  have  learned  in  any 
other  way,  and  seen  ever  so  much  that  I  should  never  have  seen  in 
any  other  way.  Dear  papa,  if  you  will  keep  it  secret,  and  not  tell  Roland, 
—  for  I  am  dreadfully  afraid  of  Roland,  you  know,  —  I  will  tell  you  that 
I  do  not  think  that  I  am  near  so  much  of  a  goose  as  I  was  when  I  left 
home.  I  hope  you  would  say  that  your  little  girl  is  rather  more  of  a 
woman.  And  I  am  as  well,  papa,  as  I  can  be.  Eunice  says  I  have  gained 
flesh.  We  cannot  find  out,  though  we  were  all  weighed  yesterday  in  the 
great  scales  in  the  warehouse.  But  they  weigh  with  fanegas  and  all  sorts 
of  things  ;  and  nobody  seems  to  know  what  they  mean  in  good  honest 
livres.  I  know  I  am  stouter,  because  of  the  dresses,  you  know.  There 
pray  do  not  read  that  to  Roland. 

Aunt  Eunice  is  writing,  and  she  will  tell  you  all  the  business,  —  the 
important  business  of  the  journey.  She  will  explain  why  we  changed 
the  plans,  and  how  it  all  happened.  I  know  you  will  be  very  sorry  that 
we  had  not  Capt  P.  all  the  way.  I  am  sure  I  was.  He  was  just  as  nice 
as  ever,  and  as  good  as  gold  to  me.  If  Roland  is  to  be  a  soldier,  I  hope 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  161 

he  will  be  just  such  a  soldier.  But  then,  I  hope  Roland  is  not  to  be  a 
soldier.  I  hope  he  is  to  come  home  to  me  some  day.  Aunt  Eunice  will 
tell  you  whom  we  had  to  escort  us  instead  of  Capt.  P.  When  you  come 
home  you  will  know  how  to  thank  him  for  his  care  of  us.  I  only  wish  I 
knew  when  we  are  to  see  him  or  the  captain  again.  Papa,  if  you  or  Ro 
land  had  been  with  us,  I  do  not  think  there  was  one  thing  you  could  have 
thought  of  which  he  did  not  think  of  and  do,  so  bravely  and  so  pleasantly 
and  so  tenderly.  I  knew  he  had  sisters,  and  he  said  he  had.  I  can 
always  tell.  I  only  hope  they  know  that  it  is  nc'  every  girl  has  such 
brothers.  I  have  ;  but  there  are  not  many  girls  tlut  do.  Why,  papa, 
the  night  I  was  lost,  he  —  there  !  I  did  not  mean  to  tell  you  one  word  of 
my  being  lost,  but  it  slipped  out  from  the  pen.  That  night  he  was  in  the 
saddle  half  the  night,  hunting  for  me.  Perhaps  you  say  that  was  of 
course.  And  he  tied  up  some  Indians  that  he  thought  knew  about  me. 
Perhaps  that  was  of  course  too.  But  what  was  not  of  course  was  this  : 
that  from  that  moment  to  this  moment,  he  never  said  I  was  a  fool,  as  I 
was.  He  never  said  if  I  had  done  this  or  that,  it  would  have  been  better. 
He  was  perfectly  lovely  and  gentlemanly  about  it  all,  always  :  papa,  he 
was  just  like  you.  I  wish  I  knew  when  we  should  see  him  again.  He  left 
yesterday,  with  only  three  men,  to  join  the  captain.  I  wish  we  could  see 
him  soon.  When  we  are  all  at  home  again,  in  dear,  dear  Orleans,  I  shall 
coax  you  to  let  me  ask  his  sister  to  spend  the  winter  with  us.  There  are 
two  of  them  :  one  is  named  Marion,  — really  after  the  Swamp-Fox,  papa, 
—  and  the  other  is  named  Jane.  Jane  is  the  oldest  Is  not  Marion  a 
pretty  name  ? 

But,  papa,  though  there  is  .only  this  scrap  left,  I  want  to  tell  you 
earnestly  how  much  I  want  to  take  Ma-ry  with  us  when  you  come  home  ; 
how  much  I  love  her,  and  how  necessary  it  is  that  she  shall  not  stay 
here.  Aunt  Eunice  says  she  will  explain  it  all,  and  who  Ma-ry  is,  and 
why  I  write  her  name  so.  She  will  tell  you  why  it  is  so  necessary  as  I 
say.  But,  dear  papa,  only  I  can  tell  you  how  much,  how  very  much,  I  want 
her.  You  see,  I  have  a  sister  now,  and  I  do  not  want  to  lose  her.  And, 
papa,  this  is  not  the  coaxing  of  a  little  girl :  this  is  the  real  earnest  wish 
of  your  own  Inez,  now  she  has  seen  things  as  a  woman  sees  them.  Do 
n  ot  laugh  at  that,  dear  papa  ;  but  think  of  it  carefully  when  you  have 
read  dear  auntie's  letter,  and  think  how  you  can  manage  to  let  me  have 
Ma-iy  till  she  finds  her  own  home.  Oh,  dear  !  what  will  happen  to  me 
when  she  finds  it  ? 

Oh  papa !  why  is  not  this  sheet  bigger  ?  It  was  the  biggest  they  had. 
Ever  so  much  love  to  Roland,  and  all  to  you. 

From  your  own  little  INEZ. 

Silas  Perry  read  this  letter  aloud  to  his  soldier-son,  as  they 


162  PHILIP  XOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

sat  together  in  their  comfortable  lodgings  in  Passy.  And 
then  Roland  said,  "  Now  let  me  try  and  see  how  much  the 
little  witch  explains  to  me  of  these  mysteries.  It  is  just  as 
she  says :  she  is  afraid  of  me  without  wanting  to  be,  and  '*  e 
shall  find  the  words  are  longer,  though  I  am  afraid  the  letter 
will  be  shorter.  We  will  fix  all  that  up  when  I  have  been  a 
week  on  the  plantation." 

INEZ  PERRY  TO  ROLAND  PERRY. 

SAN  ANTONIO  DE  BEXAR,  Nov.  27,  1800. 

MY  DEAR  BROTHER,  —  You  have  not  the  slightest  idea  what  sort  of  a 
place  a  Spanish  city  is,  though  you  have  been  the  subject  of  our  gracious 
and  Catholic  king  ten  years  longer  than  I  have.  There  are  many  beauti 
ful  situations  here,  and  some  of  the  public  edifices  are  as  fine  any  we  have 
in  Orleans ;  but  it  is  the  strangest  place  I  ever  saw. 

"  That  is  curious,"  said  Roland,  stopping  to  keep  his  cigar 
alive,  "  as  she  never  saw  any  other  place  but  Orleans.  You 
see  that  I  have  the  dignified  letter,  as  I  said.  I  shall  be 
jealous  of  you  if  it  keeps  on  so." 

Then  he  continued  his  reading :  — 

We  have  had  a  beautiful  journey  through  a  very  interesting  country. 
I  am  sure  you  would  have  enjoyed  it ;  and  as  we  spent  three  days  at 
Nacogdoches,  which  is  a  garrison  town,  perhaps  it  would  have  been 
instructive  in  your  profession.  But  perhaps  a  French  military  student 
does  not  think  much  of  Spanish  officers.  All  I  can  say  is,  we  saw  some 
very  nice,  gentlemanly  men  there,  who  danced  very  well ;  and  we  saw 
those  horrid  dances,  the  Fandango  and  Bolero. 

All  the  escorts  say  that  we  had  a  very  fortunate  journey  across  the 
wood-country  and  the  prairies.  I  am  told  here  that  I  have  bonie  the 
fatigue  very  well.  There  was  not  a  great  deal  of  fatigue,  though  some 
times  I  was  very  tired.  One  night  there  was  a  Norther,  —  so  MODS. 
Philippe  called  it 

"Does  she  mean  Nolan,  by  'Mons.  Philippe?'"  said 
Roland,  stopping  himself  again.  "  I  thought  she  said  Nolan 
was  not  with  them.  There's  a  blot  here,  where  she  wrote 
something  else  at  first.  Can  the  man  have  two  names  ?  " 


0>e,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  163 

So  Mons.  Philippe  calls  it,  but  the  people  here  call  it  Caribinera. 
What  it  is  is  a  terrible  tempest  from  the  north,  which  tears  every  thing  to 
pieces,  and  is  terribly  cold.  We  were  so  cold  that  we  needed  all  oui 
wraps  to  make  us  comfortable,  and  Ransom  had  to  build  up  the  firt  again. 

I  am  sure  I  shall  enjoy  my  visit  here.  My  aunt  and  Major  Barclo  are 
as  kind  as  possible ;  and  all  the  ladies  in  the  garrison  have  been  very 
thoughtful  and  attentive.  But  how  glad  I  shall  be  to  come  home  again, 
and  meet  you  and  papa ! 

Dear  Roland,  do  not  go  into  the  army. 

"What  is  this  ?  Something  more  scratched  out? "  But  he 
held  it  to  the  light. 

There  is  righting  enough  to  be  done  here. 

"  That  is  what  Miss  Een  thinks,  is  it  ?  " 
"But  she  did  not  dare  trust  that  to  the  post-office  in 
Mexico.     That  is  a  prudent  girl." 
"  Is  that  all  ?  "  said  his  father. 
"Yes,  all  but  this :"  — 

Dear  Roland,  I  do  want  to  see  you,  and  I  love  you  always. 

Truly  yours,  INEZ. 

"  I  call  that  a  nice  letter,  sir ;  and,  on  the  whole,  I  will  not 
change  with  you.  Of  course  she  has  changed  a  hundred 
times  as  much  as  I  have,  and  I  cannot  make  out  that  she  is 
any  thing  but  a  baby.  Dear  Aunt  Eunice  will  fill  all  blanks." 

EUNICE  PERRY  TO  SILAS  PERRY. 

SAN  ANTONIO  DE  BEXAR,  Nov.  26,  1800. 

MY  DEAR  BROTHER,  —  We  are  safe  here,  and  have  a  most  cordial 
welcome.  Having  no  chance  to  write  by  Orleans,  I  send  this,  through 
Gen.  Herrara's  kindness,  by  the  City  of  Mexico,  whence  there  is  a 
despatch-bag  to  some  port  in  Europe. 

"  Roland,  she  thinks  the  letters  were  to  be  examined  on 
their  way,  and  I  believe  this  has  been." 

"  I  am  certain  mine  has  been,  sir.  Here  is  the  mark  which 
shows  what  was  copied  from  mine  in  some  Mexican  office,  — 
this  that  poor  little  Een  tried  to  scratch  out,  about  fighting." 


1 64  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

"  Much  good  may  it  do  them  ! "  said  his  father,  and  con 
tinued  reading  his  sister's  letter  aloud  :  — 

Inez  has  borne  her  journey  famously.  Indeed,  when  we  were  well 
started,  and  were  once  used  to  the  saddle,  it  was  tedious,  but  nothing  more. 
She  lost  herself  one  night,  and  frightened  me  horribly ;  but  no  harm  came 
of  it.  As  for  Indians,  we  saw  but  few.  From  the  first  post  the  Spanish 
officers  furnished  us  escorts  of  troops  on  their  return  to  this  garrison. 
Perhaps  lhat  frightened  away  the  Indians,  as  it  certainly  did  los  Amcri- 
sinos. 

" '  As  it  certainly  did  los  Americanos1  Roland,  Phil 
Nolan  found  that  his  room  was  better  than  his  company. 
He  would  never  have  left  them  if  it  were  not  better  for 
them  that  he  should  leave.  Eunice  knew  these  letters  were 
to  be  opened,  and  she  has  written  for  more  eyes  than  mine." 

When  you  see  Mons.  Philippe,  you  must  express  what  I  have  tried  to 
tell,  — how  much  we  value  his  constant  and  kind  attention. 

"  Who  the  dickens  is  Mons.  Philippe  ?  That  I  shall  learn 
when  the  '  Hamilton  '  comes  in." 

We  have  brought  with  us  a  charming  girl,  who  makes  a  dear  com 
panion  for  Inez,  being,  I  suppose,  about  her  age.  She  is  an  American 
girl,  whom  a  Spanish  priest  found  among  the  Apaches,  and  bought  of 
them.  From  the  first  moment  the  two  girls  fancied  each  other,  though 
at  first  neither, could  understand  the  other's  language.  But  now  Mary 
has  learned  a  great  deal  of  English  and  a  little  Spanish,  and  dear  little 
Inez  is  quite  glib  in  Apache!  The  girl's  name  is  Mary;  she  calls  it 
Ma-ry,  as  if  it, were  two  words  ;  it  is  the  only  word  she  remembers  which 
her  mother  taught  her. 

Inez  wants  -to<take  her  home ;  and,  unless  I  hear  from  you  that  you 
object,  I  shall  agree  to  this,  unless  some  other  arrangement  is  made  for 
sending  her  .East.  .Donna  Dolores  agrees  :  the  garrison  is  not  a  very 
good  place  for  her. 

To  tell  you  the  tr.uth,  the  regular  lessons  which  Inez  gives  her,  and 
the  reading  which  the ,  dear  girl  undertakes  in  books  you  bade  her  read, 
keeps,  them  out.  of  mischief  for  two  or  three  hours  every  day.  The  ladies 
here  do  so  little,  and -have  so  little  to  do  in  this  dull  Moor-like  life,  that 
this  seems  strange  to  them.  But  I  encourage  them  both  in  it.  They 
ride  a  good  deal  under  dear  old  >  Ransom's  escort ;  and  sometimes  he 
drives  them  out  in  one  of  these,solemn  old  carriages  which  I  believe  were 
inherited  direct  from-Cortez. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS:'1  165 

This  is  an  interesting  place,  such  as  I  suppose  you  have  often  seen, 
but  as  different  from  a  Freneh  city,  or  from  our  French  city,  —  do  not 
let  Roland  laugh  at  me,  —  as  that  is  from  Squam  Bay.  Oh,  do  not  think 
that  we  will  be  homesick  here.  Donna  Dolores  is  all  that  you  described 
her  to  be,  and  as  happy  in  her  new  plaything  as  she  hoped  to  be,  and 
deserved  to  be.  She  persuades  herself  that  she  sees  Inez's  mother's  face 
in  hers,  and  is  sometimes  startled  by  a  tone  of  her  voice.  She  delights 
the  dear  child,  as  you  may  suppose.  There  are  several  ladies  here  who 
are  accomplished  and  agreeable.  I  do  not  know  but  you  have  heard  the 
major  speak  of  the  families  of  Garcia,  of  Gonzales,  and  Trevino.  Col. 
Trevino  is  now  at  Nacogdoches  :  he  was  very  civil  to  us. 

We  have  found  two  governors  here,  —  fortunately  for  us,  for  I  be 
lieve  neither  of  them  strictly  belongs  here.  Gen.  Herrara  is,  as  you 
know,  a  remarkable  man :  we  are  great  friends.  His  wife  is  an  English 
lady  whom  he  married  at  Cadiz,  and  it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  see  so 
much  of  her.  He  was  in  Philadelphia  when  Gen.  Washington  was  pres 
ident,  and  spo.ke  to  me  at  once  of  him.  Of  course  we  have  been  firm 
friends  ever  since  that.  He  is  governor,  not  of  this  province,  but  of  New 
Leon,  our  next  neighbor,  and  is  very  much  beloved  there.  I  hardly  know 
why  he  resides  so  much  here.  Gov.  Cordero,  whose  real  seat  of  govern 
ment  is  Monte  Clovez,  is  here  a  great  deal,  —  for  military  reasons,  I 
suppose.  He  is  a  bachelor  :  the  more  is  the  pity.  He  is  Spanish  hy 
birth,  and  every  inch  a  soldier.  Gov.  Elquezebal  you  will  remember. 

Young  Walker  is  here  from  the  military  school.  You  remember  his 
mother.  He  came  at  once  to  see  me. 

But  my  paper  is  at  an  end,  and  I  must  let  my  pen  run  no  longer.     Give 
much  love  to  my  dear  Roland.     This  letter  is  his  as  much  as  yours. 
Always  your  own  loving  sister, 

EUNICE  PERRY. 

"  Gov.  Cordero  is  there  for  military  reasons,  Roland,  and 
Gen.  Herrara  is  there  also.  What  military  reasons  but  that 
President  John  Adams  has  stirred  up  the  magnificoes  a  little? 
But  if  I  have  sent  our  doves  into  a  hawk's  nest,  Roland,  I  do 
not  know  how  we  are  to  get  them  out  again." 

"It  is  one  comfort,"  he  added,  after  a  pause,  "that  there 
will  be  a  good  strip  of  land  and  water  between  Gen.  Herrara 
and  Gen.  Wilkinson." 

And  the  father  and  son  resumed  their  cigars,  and  sat  in 
silence. 

What  Silas  Perry  meant  by  "  a  good  thick  strip,"  will  ap« 


166  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

pear  from  his  own  letter  to  Eunice,  which  shall  be  printed  in 
the  next  chapter.  He  had  written  it  as  soon  as  possible 
after  his  arrival  in  Paris.  It  had  crossed  her  letter  on  the 
ocean.  Written  under  cover  to  his  own  house  in  Orleans, 
and  sent  by  his  own  vessel,  it  spoke  without  hesitation  on 
the  topics,  all-important,  of  which  he  wrote. 


OR,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  167 


CHAPTER  XV. 

COURTS  AND  CAMPS. 

Well  loved  that  splendid  monarch  aye 

The  banquet  and  the  song, 
The  merry  dance,  traced  fast  and  light, 
The  maskers  quaint,  the  pageant  bright, 

The  revel  loud  and  long. 
Here  to  the  harp  did  minstrels  sing; 
There  others  touched  a  softer  string; 
While  some,  in  close  recess  apart, 
Courted  the  ladies  of  their  heart, 

Nor  courted  them  in  vain.  —  Marmion. 

OUR  little  history  draws  again  upon  these  yellow  files  of 
ancient  letters. 

SILAS  PERRY  TO  EUNICE  PERRY. 

PASSY,  near  PARIS,  Nov.  16,  1800. 

MY  DEAR  SISTER,  —  We  have  had  a  wonderful  run.  Look  at  the 
date,  and  wonder,  when  you  know  that  I  have  been  here  a  week.  I  have 
good  news  for  you  in  every  way.  First,  that  our  dear  boy  is  well,  — 
strong,  manly,  gentlemanly,  —  and  not  unwilling  to  come  home.  He 
thought  I  should  not  know  him  in  his  cadet  uniform,  as  he  stood  waiting 
for  me  in  the  court-yard  where  the  po st-chaise  brought  me.  But,  Lord!  I 
should  have  known  him  in  a  million.  Yet  he  is  stronger,  stouter,  has 
the  air  militairt  wonderfully ;  and  they  do  not  wear  their  hair  as  our 
officers  do.  This  is  my  first  great  news.  The  second  you  would  read  in 
the  gazettes,  if  you  were  not  sure  to  read  this  first.  It  is,  that  France 
and  America  are  firm  friends  again :  no  more  captures  at  sea,  no  more 
mock  war.  This  First  Consul  knows  what  he  is  about  He  told  his 
brother  Joseph  what  to  do,  and  he  did  it  On  the  3<Dth  of  September  the 
treaty  was  signed:  the  right  of  search  is  all  settled,  and  commerce  is 
to  be  free  on  both  sides.  Had  I  known  this  on  the  3Oth  of  September,  I 
might  not  have  come.  For  all  that,  I  am  glad  I  am  here. 


168  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Third  bit  of  news  ;  and  this  is  "  secret  of  secrets,"  as  our  dear  mother 
would  have  said.  You  may  tell  Inez  ;  but  swear  her  to  secrecy.  I  have 
only  told  Turner  and  Pollock.  We  are  no  longer  Spanish  subjects  !  We 
are  French  citizens,  —  citizens  and  citizenesses  of  the  indivisible  French 
Republic.  Perhaps  I  do  not  translate  citoyenties  right ;  but  that  is  what 
you  and  Inez  are.  Is  not  that  news  ? 

I  only  knew  this  last  night  There  are  not  ten  men  in  Paris  who 
know  it.  But,  by  a  secret  article  in  a  treaty  made  in  Spain  last  month, 
this  imbecile  King  of  Spain  has  given  all  Louisiana  back  to  Fra.ice. 
There  !  does  not  that  make  your  hair  stand  on  end  ? 

Of  course,  dear  Eunice,  if  there  should  be  any  breath  of  war  between 
the  two  countries,  your  visit  must  end  at  once.  Heaven  knows  when  you 
will  hear  from  me  •  but  act  promptly.  Do  not  be  caught  among  those 
Mexicans  when  the  Dons  are  fighting  the  Monsieurs.  But  I  think  there 
will  be  no  war  before  we  are  well  home.  When  war  comes  I  am  glad  we 
are  on  the  side  that  always  wins. 

Roland  will  tell  you  in  his  letter,  in  what  scene  of  vanity  I  picked  up 
my  information.     If  I  can  I  shall  add  more  ;  but  I  must  now  sign  myself, 
Your  affectionate  brother, 

SILAS  PERRY. 

ROLAND  PERRY  TO  INEZ  PERRY. 

PASSY,  near  PARIS,  Nov.  16,  1800. 

DEAR  LITTLE  SISTER,  —  Father  has  left  me  his  letter  to  read  and 
seal,  and  has  bidden  me  give  you  all  the  particulars  of  his  triumphs  at 
court.  I  tell  him  that  nobody  has  made  such  an  impression  as  he,  since 
Ben  Franklin.  It  has  all  been  very  droll  ;  and,  when  I  see  you,  I  can 
make  you  understand  it  better  than  I  can  write  it  To  be  brief,  papa  is 
what  they  call  here  "  un  grand  succh." 

He  says,  and  you  say,  that  I  have  not  written  enough  about  how  I 
spend  my  time.  I  can  see  that  he  is  surprised  at  knowing  the  chances  I 
have  for  good  society.  But  it  has  all  come  about  simply  enough.  When 
I  came  here,  M.  Beauharnais,  as  you  know,  welcomed  me  as  cordially  as 
a  man  could  ;  and,  when  there  was  an  off-day  at  school,  they  made  me  at 
home  there.  Just  as  soon  as  Eugene  entered  at  the  Polytechnic  —  well, 
I  knew  the  ways  a  little  better  than  he  did.  As  dear  old  Ransom  used 
to  say,  "  I  had  the  hang  of  the  schoolhouse."  Any  way,  he  took  to  me, 
and  I  was  always  glad  to  help  the  boy.  You  see,  they  called  him  an 
American,  because  of  his  father  and  mother  :  so,  as  the  senior  American 
in  rEcole,  I  had  to  thrash  one  or  two  fellows  who  were  hard  upon  him. 
Now  that  he  is  one  of  the  young  heroes  of  Egypt,  I  have  reason  to 
be  proud  of  my  prottgi.  I  only  wish  I  had  gone  with  them.  Well,  if 
I  have  not  told  you  of  every  call  I  have  made  there,  —  I  mean  at  his 


OK,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  169 

mother's,  —  it  is  because  it  has  been  quite  a  matter  of  course  in  my  life. 
When  Eugene  and  the  general  were  both  away,  there  were  many  reasons 
why  I  should  be  glad  to  be  of  service  to  her ;  and  she  has  never  forgotten 
them. 

Well,  when  papa  came,  I  told  him  that  his  first  visit  must  be  to  Mme. 
Buonaparte  at  Malmaison  ;  and  he  must  thank  her,  if  he  meant  to  thank 
any  one,  for  my  happy  life  here.  You  know  how  papa  would  act.  lie 
said  he  was  not  going  to  pay  court  to  First  Consuls,  and  put  on  court 
dresses.  Some  fool  had  told  him  great  lies  about  the  state  at  Malmaison. 
I  told  him,  if  I  did  not  know  how  to  take  my  own  father  to  see  a  friend 
of  mine,  I  did  not  know  any  thing.  He  was  very  funny.  He  asked  if  he 
need  not  be  powdered.  I  told  him,  No.  I  told  him  to  put  on  his  best 
coat,  and  go  as  he  would  go  to  a  wedding  at  Squam  Bay. 

Inez,  he  was  very  handsome.  He  was  perfectly  dressed,  —  you  know 
he  would  be,  —  and  his  hair,  which  is  the  least  bit  more  gray  than  I 
remember  it,  was  very  distingitt  in  the  midst  of  all  those  heads  of  white 
powder.  We  drove  out  to  Malmaison,  and  I  can  tell  you  we  had  a 
lovely  time.  I  was  as  proud  as  I  could  be.  There  is  not  much  fuss 
there,  ever,  about  getting  in  ;  and  with  me,  —  well,  they  all  know  me,  you 
know,  —  and  the  old  ones  have,  since  I  was  a  boy.  By  good  luck,  Madame 
was  alone  (you  know  we  say  Madame  now,  without  having  our  heads  cut 
off).  She  was  alone,  and  I  presented  papa.  She  was  so  pleased !  Inez, 
I  cannot  tell  you  how  pleased  she  was.  You  see,  she  does  not  often  see 
people  of  sense,  who  have  any  knowledge  of  the  islands,  or  of  her  father 
and  mother,  or  her  husband's  friends.  Then  it  was  clear  enough,  in  two 
minutes,  that  papa  must  have  been  of  real  service  to  Major  Beauharnais 
and  to  her,  which  he  had  never  told  me  of.  He  lent  her  money,  perhaps, 
when  she  was  poor,  —  or  something.  My  dear  Inez,  she  treated  papa 
with  a  sort  of  welcome  I  have  never  seen  her  give  to  any  human  being. 

Well,  right  in  the  midst  of  this,  who  should  come  in  but  the  Gen. 
Buonaparte  himself,  the  First  Consul,  boots  muddy,  and  face  all  alive ! 
He  had  ridden  out  from  the  Thuilleries.  He  looked  a  little  amazed, — I 
thought  a  little  mad.  But  Mme.  Josephine  has  tact  enough.  "Man 
ami"  she  said  to  him,  "  here  is  an  American,  my  oldest  and  best  friend. 
I  present  to  you  Mons.  Perry,  —  the  best  friend  of  the  Vicomte,  and  but 
for  whom  I  should  never  have  been  here.  Mons.  Perry,  you  had  the  right 
to  be  the  godfather  of  Eugene." 

Dear  papa  bowed,  and  gave  the  First  Consul  his  hand,  and  said  he 
hoped  he  was  well.  Was  not  that  magnificent  ?  Oh,  Inez,  it  was  ravish 
ing  to  see  him !  The  consul  was  a  little  amazed,  I  think ;  but  he  is  a 
man  of  immense  penetration  and  immense  sense.  So  is  papa.  The 
general  asked  him  at  once  about  Martinique  and  all  the  islands,  and 
Toussaint  and  St.  Domingo,  and  every  thing.  Well,  in  two  minutes,  yon 


170  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

know,  papa  told  him  more  than  all  their  old  reports  and  despatches  would 
tell  him  in  a  month,  —  more,  indeed,  than  they  knew. 

Well,  the  general  was  delighted.  He  took  papa  over  to  a  sofa,  and 
there  they  sat  and  sat ;  and,  Inez,  there  they  sat  and  sat ;  and  they 
talked  for  two  hours.  What  do  you  think  of  that?  People  kept  coming 
in ;  and  there  was  poor  I  talking  to  Madame,  and  to  half  the  finest 
women  in  France  ;  and  everybody  was  looking  into  the  corner,  and  won 
dering  who  " FAmericain  magnifique"  was,  whom  the  consul  had  got  hold 
of.  Madame  sent  them  some  coffee.  But  nobody  dared  to  interrupt ;  and 
at  last  Gen.  Buonaparte  rose  and  laughed,  and  said,  "  Madame  will  never 
forgive  me  for  my  boots  ; "  but  he  made  papa  promise  to  come  again  last 
night.  Now,  last  night,  you  know,  was  one  of  the  regular  court  receptions, 
—  one  of  the  Malmaison  ones,  I  mean.  You  know  the  state  receptions 
are  at  the  Thuilleries.  Of  this  I  must  take  another  sheet  to  tell  you. 

When  Inez  read  this  letter,  she  said  to  her  aunt,  — 

"  Do  you  know  what  Malmaison  is  ?     It  is  not  a  very  nice 

name." 

"  It  must  be  their  country-house :  read  on,  and  perhaps 

you  will  see." 

I  have  shown  papa  what  I  have  written.  He  laughs  at  my  account  of 
him,  and  says  it  is  all  trash.  But  it  is  all  gospel  true,  and  shall  stand. 
He  air'  ~ays  that  you  will  not  know  what  Malmaison  is.  Malmaison  is 
an  elegant  place,  about  ten  miles  from  Paris,  which  Mme.  Buonaparte 
bought,  —  oh !  two  years  or  more  ago.  She  carries  with  her  her  old 
island  tastes,  and  is  very  fond  of  flowers  ;  and  at  this  house  with  the  bad 
name  she  has  made  exquisite  gardens.  She  really  does  a  good  deal  of 
gardening  herself,  —  that  is,  such  gardening  as  you  women  do.  I  have 
gone  round  with  her  for  an  hour  together,  carrying  strings  and  a  watering- 
pot,  helping  Mile.  Hortense,  —  who,  you  know,  is  just  your  age,  —  to  help 
her  mother. 

Well,  so  much  for  Malmaison. 

Papa  had  really  had  what  he  calls  a  "  very  good  tune  "  talking  with  the 
First  Consul.  He  says  he  is  the  most  sensible  man  he  has  seen  since  he 
bade  Mr.  Pollock  good-by.  I  am  afraid  I  did  not  take  much  pains  to  tell 
him  that  the  grand  reception  of  last  night  was  to  be  a  very  different  thing 
from  that  informal  visit ;  for,  if  I  had  told  him,  he  never  would  have 
gone.  But  when  he  was  once  there,  why,  he  could  not  turn  back,  you 
know. 

And  it  was  very  brilliant  Indeed,  since  the  battle  of  Marengo,  nothing 
can  be  too  brilliant  for  everybody's  expectations  ;  and,  although  Malmai- 
lon  is  nothing  to  the  Thuilleries,  yet  nfltt  there  is  very  charming.  When 


a?,  "snow  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  171 

papa  saw  lackeys  standing  on  the  steps,  and  found  that  our  carriage 
had  to  wait  its  turn,  and  that  our  names  were  to  be  called  from  sentry 
to  sentry,  he  would  gladly  have  turned  and  fled.  But,  like  a  devoted  son, 
I  explained  to  him  that  this  would  be  cowardly.  I  reminded  him  that  he 
had  promised  Gen.  Buonaparte  to  come,  and  that  his  word  was  as  good 
as  his  bond.  Before  he  knew  it,  a  chamberlain  had  us  in  hand  ;  and  we 
passed  along  the  brilliant  line  to  be  presented  in  our  turn. 

Inez,  dear,  I  confess  to  you  that  I  had  an  elegant  little  queue,  and  a 
sot/p{on  of  powder  upon  my  hair.  So  had  most  of  the  gentlemen  around 
me.  But.  Gen.  Buonaparte  hates  powder,  they  say,  when  it  is  not  gun 
powder  ;  and  he  and  dear  papa  had  no  flake  of  it  on  the  locks,  which 
they  wore  as  nature  made  them.  They  were  the  handsomest  men  in  that 
room,  —  I,  who  write,  not  excepted.  Now,  my  dear  sister,  never  tell  me 
that  I  am  vain  again. 

Well,  when  our  turn  came,  Mme.  Buonaparte  gave  papa  her  hand, 
which  is  very  unusual,  and  fairly  detained  him  every  time  he  offered  to 
move  on.  This  left  me,  who  came  next,  to  talk  to  Mile.  Ilortense,  who 
was  charmaiite.  She  never  looked  so  well.  I  did  not  care  how  long  the 
general  and  madame  held  papa.  I  asked  Plortense  about  the  last  game 
of  Prison  Bars,  which  is  all  the  rage  at  Malmaison.  I  engaged  her  for 
the  third  dance.  I  promised  her  some  Cherokee  roses,  and  I  must  write 
to  Turner  about  them.  She  asked  why  papa  did  not  bring  you,  and  I 
said  you  were  to  enter  a  Spanish  convent.  She  guessed  by  my  eye  that 
this  was  nonsense,  and  then  we  had  a  deal  of  fun  about  it.  The  cham 
berlain  was  fuming  and  swearing  inwardly ;  but  the  general  and  Mme. 
Buonaparte  would  not  let  papa  go  on.  Papa  was  splendid  !  You  would 
have  thought  he  had  been  at  court  all  his  life.  At  last  he  tore  himself 
away.  I  bowed  to  Madame,  who  smiled.  I  bowed  to  the  First  Consul, 
and  he  said,  "  Ah,  monsieur,  Eugene  est  au  desespoir  de  vous  voir"  I 
smiled  and  bowed  again.  And  so  papa  and  I  were  free. 

But  there  were  ever  so  many  people  looking  on,  and  I  was  so  proud  to 
present  to  him  this  and  that  of  my  friends  !  I  brought  Lagrange  to  him, 
who  taught  us  our  mathematics  when  I  was  in  the  Polytechnic.  Lagrange 
brought  up  La  Place,  who  is  another  of  our  great  men.  I  presented  him 
to  Mme.  Berthollet,  and  to  Mme.  Campan,  who  is  a  favorite  here,  and  to 
Mme.  Morier  ;  and  they  all  asked  him  such  funny  questions  !  You  know 
they  all  think  that  we  live  close  by  Niagara,  and  breakfasted  every  day 
with  Gen.  \Vashmgton,  and  that  all  of  us  who  were  old  enough  fought  in 
the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  while  of  course  we  were  all  playmates  with 
Mme.  Buonaparte. 

At  last  the  dancing  came.  The  rooms  are  not  very  large,  but  large 
enough  ;  and  the  music,  —  O  Inez  dear !  it  was  ravissante.  The  First 
Consul  took  out  a  hideous  creature  :  I  forget  her  name  ;  but  she  was 


172  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

a  returned  Imigrle,  of  a  great  royalist  family,  who  had  buried  her  preju 
dices,  or  pretended  to.  Gen.  Junot  took  out  Madame :  that  was  a 
couple  worth  seeing.  I  danced  with  Mile.  Poitevin,  a  lovely  girl ;  but  I 
must  tell  of  her  another  time.  O  Inez!  the  First  Consul  dances  —  well 
—  horridly  !  He  hates  to  dance.  He  called  for  that  stupid  old  "  Mo 
naco,"  as  he  always  does,  because  he  cannot  make  so  many  mistakes  in 
it  Well,  he  only  danced  this  first  time  ;  and  I  had  charming  dances  with 
Mile.  Julie  Ramey,  and  then  with  the  lovely  Hortense.  Was  not  I  the 
envied  of  the  evening  then  ! 

It  was  then  that,  looking  round  to  see  how  papa  fared,  Mile.  Hortense 
caught  my  eye,  and  said  so  roguishly,  "  Ah,  Monsieur,  que  vous  epouvante  I 
we  will  take  care  of  your  papa.  See,  the  consul  himself  has  charge  of 
him."  True  enough,  the  consul  had  found  him,  and  led  him  across  to  a 
quiet  place  by  the  conservatory  door ;  and,  Inez,  they  talked  the  whole 
evening  again. 

And  it  was  in  this  talk,  — when  papa  had  been  explaining  to  him  what 
a  sin  and  shame  it  was  that  so  fine  a  country  as  Louisiana  should  have 
been  given  over  to  that  beast  of  a  Charles  Fourth,  and  that  miserable 
Godoy :  only  I  suppose  he  put  it  rather  better,  —  that  the  consul  smiled, 
tapped  his  snuff-bpx,  gave  papa  snuff,  and  said,  "  Mons.  Perry,  you  Ameri 
cans  can  keep  secrets.  You  may  count  yourselves  republicans  from  to 
day."  Papa  did  not  know  what  he  meant,  and  said  so  plumply. 

Then  he  told  papa  that  he  had  received  an  express  from  Madrid  that 
very  morning.  Inez,  an  article  is  signed  by  which  Louisiana  is  given 
back  to  France.  Think  of  that !  The  Orleans  girls  may  dance  French 
dances  and  sing  French  songs  as  much  as  they  please  ;  and  old  CasaCalvo 
may  go  hang  himself. 

Only,  Inez,  you  must  not  tell  any  one :  it  is  a  secret  article,  and  the 
First  Consul  said  that  no  public  announcement  of  any  sort  was  to  be 
made. 

Now,  after  that,  who  says  it  is  not  profitable  to  go  to  court  ?  I  am 
sure  papa  will  never  say  so  again.  But  the  paper  is  all  out,  and  the  oil 
is  all  out  in  my  new  argand.  Salute  dear  Aunt  Eunice  with  my  heart's 
love  ;  and  believe  me,  ma  chtre  sceur, 

Votrefrlre  ires  devoul, 

ROLAND  PERRY. 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  173 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

NEWS  ?   WHAT   NEWS  ? 

"  News  !  great  news  I  in  the  '  London  Gazette ! ' 
But  what  the  news  is,  I  will  not  tell  you  yet ; 
For,  if  by  misfortune  my  news  I  should  tell, 
Why,  never  a  '  London  Gazette'  should  I  sell." 

Cries  of  London. 

THESE  letters  from  Paris  did  not,  of  course,  reach  Eunice 
and  Inez  till  the  short  winter  —  if  winter  it  may  be  called  — 
of  Texas  was  over ;  and  February  found  them  enjoying  the 
wonders  and  luxuries  of  that  early  spring. 

The  surprising  news  with  which  both  letters  ended  gave 
them  enough  food  for  talk  when  they  were  alone ;  and  the 
White  Hawk,  almost  their  constant  companion,  saw  that 
some  subject  of  unusual  seriousness  had  come  in, — a  subject 
too,  which,  with  her  scanty  notions  of  European  politics,  she 
could  hardly  be  expected  to  understand.  In  her  pretty 
broken  English  she  would  challenge  them  to  tell  her  what 
they  read,  and  what  they  said. 

"  Te-reaty —  what  is  te-reaty,  my  sister?  F-erance — what 
is  F-erance,  my  auntie  ? " 

But  to  make  the  girl  understand  how  the  signing  of  a  piece 
of  parchment,  by  an  imbecile  liar  in  a  Spanish  palace,  should 
affect  the  status,  the  happiness,  or  the  social  life  of  the  two 
people  dearest  to  her  in  the  world,  was  simply  impossible. 

The  ladies  were  both  glad  to  receive  such  news.  Every 
body  in  Orleans  would  be  glad,  excepting  the  little  coterie  of 
the  governor's  court.  Everybody  in  America  would  be  glad. 


1 7  4  PHILIP  NO  LA  N  'S  FRIENDS  ; 

Better  that  Louisiana  should  be  in  the  hands  of  a  strong 
power  than  a  weak  one.  But  still  their  secret  gave  the  ladies 
anxiety.  If,  —  as  Silas  Perry  had  suggested,  —  if  the  dice- 
box  should  throw  war  between  Spain  and  France,  here  they 
were  in  San  Antonio  at  the  beginning  only  of  a  visit  which 
was  meant  to  last  a  year.  And,  worse,  if  the  dice-box  should 
throw  war  between  France  and  England,  everybody  knew 
that  an  English  squadron  would  pounce  on  Orleans,  and  their 
country  would  be  changed  again. 

"  I  told  Capt.  Nolan  one  day,"  said  Inez,  in  mock  grief, 
which  concealed  much  real  feeling,  "that  I  was  a  girl  without 
a  country.  I  seem  to  be  likely  to  be  a  girl  of  three  countries, 
if  not  of  four." 

Three  months  of  garrison  life,  with  such  contrivances  as  the 
ladies  around  them  had  devised  to  while  away  time,  had  given 
to  all  three  of  the  new-comers  a  set  of  habits  quite  different 
from  those  of  the  home  at  Orleans.  The  presence  of  Cor- 
dero  and  of  Herrara  there,  both  remarkable  men,  seemed  al 
most  of  course.  Eunice  Perry  was  right  in  saying  that  neither 
of  them  belonged  there.  But  they  both  liked  the  residence, 
and,  still  more,  they  liked  each  other.  This  was  fortunate  for 
our  friends ;  for  it  proved  that  in  Mme.  Herrara,  who  was 
herself  an  English  lady  by  birth,  they  found  a  charming 
friend.  The  ladies  named  in  Miss  Perry's  letter  to  her 
brother  were  all  women  of  brilliancy  or  of  culture,  such  as 
would  have  been  prizes  in  any  society.  The  little  tertulias 
of  the  winter  became,  therefore,  parties  of  much  more  spirit 
than  any  Eunice  had  known,  even  in  the  larger  and  more 
brilliant  social  circle  of  Orleans  ;  and  in  the  long  hours  of  the 
morning,  when  the  gentlemen  were  pretending  to  drill  recruits, 
or  to  lay  out  lines  for  imaginary  buildings,  or  otherwise  to 
develop  the  town  which  the  governors  wanted  to  make  here, 
the  ladies  made  pleasant  and  regular  occasions  for  meeting, 
when  a  new  poem  by  Valdez,  or  an  old  play  by  Lope  de 
Vega,  entertained  them  all  together. 

In  o\]  these  gatherings  the  Donna  Maria  Dolores,  whom 


OR,   "SffOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  175 

our  fair  Inez  had  gone  so  far  West  to  see,  was,  if  not  leader, 
the  admired,  even  the  beloved,  centre  of  each  little  party. 
Eunice  Perry  came  to  prize  her  more  highly,  as  she  wondered 
at  her  more  profoundly,  with  every  new  and  quiet  interview 
between  them.  Her  figure  was  graceful ;  her  face  animated 
rather  than  beautiful ;  her  eyes  quick  and  expressive.  There 
was  something  contagious  in  her  welcome;  and  so  sympa 
thetic  was  she,  in  whatever  society,  that  her  presence  in  any 
tertulia  was  enough  to  put  the  whole  company  at  ease,  —  cer 
tainly  to  lift  it  quite  above  the  conventional  type  of  formal 
Spanish  intercourse.  There  were  in  the  garrison-circle  some 
officers'  wives  who  would  have  been  very  unfortunate  but  for 
Maria  Dolores.  Either  for  beauty,  or  wealth,  or  something 
less  explicable,  they  had  been  married  by  men  of  higher 
rank  than  their  own  ;  and  now  they  found  themselves  among 
ladies  who  were  ladies,  and  officers  most  of  whom  were  really 
gentlemen,  while  their  own  training  had  been  wholly  neg 
lected,  and  they  were  absolutely  in  the  crass  ignorance  of  a 
Mexican  peasant's  daughter,  or  of  the  inmate  of  a  Moorish 
harem.  They  could  dress,  they  could  look  pretty,  and  that 
was  absolutely  all.  There  were  not  quite  enough  of  them, 
this  winter,  to  make  a  faction  of  their  own,  and  send  the 
others  to  Coventry.  Indeed,  the  superior  rank,  as  it  hap 
pened,  of  Mme.  Herrara,  of  the  Senora  Valois,  and  of 
Donna  Maria  Dolores,  to  say  nothing  of  others  who  have 
been  named,  made  this  impossible.  So  was  it  that  Donna 
Maria  had  her  opportunity,  and  used  it,  to  make  them  at  ease, 
and  to  see  that  they  were  not  excluded  from  the  little  con 
trivances  by  which  the  winter  was  led  along.  She  always 
had  a  word  even  for  the  dullest  of  them.  A  bit  of  embroid 
ery,  or  some  goose-grease  for  a  child's  throat,  or  a  message 
to  Monteclovez,  something  or  other,  gave  importance,  for  the 
moment,  even  to  a  stupid  wax-doll,  who  had  perhaps  but 
just  found  out  she  was  a  fool,  and  had  not  found  out  what 
she  should  do  about  it. 

It  was  in  a  little  gathering,  rather  larger  than  was  usual 


176  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

in  which  they  were  turning  over  two  or  three  plays  of  Lope 
de  Vega,  and  wondering  whether  they  could  spur  the  gentle 
men  up  to  act  one  with  them,  that  Eunice  and  Inez  both 
received  a  sudden  shock  of  surprise,  which  made  them  listen 
with  all  their  ears,  and  look  away  from  each  other  with  terri 
ble  determination. 

"  Who  shall  take  Alfonso  ? "  said  the  eager  Madame  Zulo- 
aga. 

"  Oh,  let  Mr.  Lonsdale  take  Alfonso  !  He  is  just  mysteri 
ous  enough !  And  then  he  has  so  little  to  say." 

"  But  what  he  does  say  would  kill  us  with  laughing :  his 
English-Spanish  is  so  funny !  Do  the  English  really  think 
they  know  our  language  better  than  we  do  ? " 

"  I  am  sure  I  should  never  advise  him.  But  anybody  can 
take  Alfonso.  Ask  Capt.  Garcia  to  take  it,  —  Luisa,  do  you 
ask  him  :  he  will  do  any  thing  you  ask." 

The  fair  Luisa  said  nothing,  but  blushed  and  giggled. 

One  of  the  wax-doll  people  spoke  up  bluntly,  and,  in  a 
language  not  absolutely  Castilian,  said,  — 

"Capt.  Garcia  will  be  gone.  His  troop  is  ordered  out 
against  Nolano." 

"  Gone  !  "  cried  two  or  three  of  the  younger  ladies.  And 
only  Eunice  cared  whether  the  troop  went  against  Apaches 
or  Comanches,  or  to  relieve  a  garrison  in  New  Mexico,  so  it 
was  to  go :  it  was  the  loss  of  partners  for  which  they  grieved, 
not  any  particular  danger  to  friends  or  to  enemies. 

Eunice,  however,  picked  up  the  dropped  subject. 

"  Did  you  say  they  went  against  Nolan  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  or  rather  no.  They  go  to  take  the  place  at 
Chihuahua,  you  know,  of  the  two  troops  who  go,  you  know, 
against  the  Americanos.  Who  go?  or  are  they  now  gone, 
Donna  Carlotta  ?  Was  it  not  you  who  told  me  ?  " 

No,  it  was  not  Donna  Carlotta  who  had  told  her;  and 
soon  it  proved  that  nobody  should  have  told  her,  and  that 
she  should  not  have  told  what  she  had  heard.  De  Nava  had 
intentionally  sent  his  troopers  from  distant  Chihuahua, 


OR,  "Sffow  YOUR  PASSPORTS:''  177 

because  the  Americanos  would  not  watch  that  city ;  and  he 
had  not  meant  to  give  any  sign  of  activity  eastward  in  San 
Antonio,  which  they  would  watch.  The  truth  was,  he  was 
jealous  and  suspicious  both  of  Cordero  and  of  Herrara, 
though  they  were  his  countrymen. 

But  by  some  oversight  a  letter  had  been  read  in  presence 
of  the  wax-doll,  which  she  should  never  have  heard  ;  and 
thus  the  secret  of  secrets,  which  Herrara  and  Cordero  and 
Barelo  had  preserved  most  jealously,  was  blurted  out  in  the 
midst  of  four-and-twenty  officers'  wives. 

So  soon  as  the  ladies  parted,  Eunice  made  it  her  business 
to  find  the  husband  of  her  sister,  and  spoke  to  him  very 
frankly.  She  told  him  that  she  knew  Nolan,  and  knew  him 
well ;  that  he  even  accompanied  them  for  a  day  or  two  on 
their  expedition.  She  told  him  on  what  cordial  terms  he 
was  with  all  the  Spanish  governors  of  Orleans.  She  ridi 
culed  the  idea  of  his  making  war  with  a  little  company  of 
"  grooms  and  stablers  "  (for  into  Spanish  words  of  such  force 
was  she  obliged  to  translate  the  horse-hunters  of  his  party) ; 
and  she  explained  to  Major  Barelo,  that,  though  the  people 
of  the  West  were  eager  to  open  the  Mississippi,  the  very  last 
thing  they  wanted  was  to  incense  the  military  commanders  of 
Mexico. 

Major  Barelo  was  an  accomplished  officer  of  European 
experience,  and  a  man  of  rare  good  sense.  He  heard  Eunice 
with  sympathy  all  through,  and  then  he  said  to  her,  — 

"  I  can  trust  you  as  I  can  trust  my  wife.  You  are  right  in 
saying  that  this  folly  is  the  most  preposterous  extravagance 
that  has  crossed  any  ruler's  brain  since  the  days  of  Don 
Quixote. 

"  You  are  right  in  saying  that  Don  Pedro  de  Nava  gave  to 
this  very  Nolan  a  pass,  not  to  say  an  invitation,  to  carry  on 
this  very  trade.  Why,  we  know  him  here  :  he  has  been  here 
again  and  again. 

"  But  it  seems  that  you  do  not  know  that  De  Nava  has 
been  told  to  change  his  policy.  New  kings,  new  measures 


IjS  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

He  is  a  Pharaoh  who  does  not  know  your  Joseph,  my  deaf 
sister. 

"  He  does  not  dare  give  his  commands  to  us.  We  have 
too  much  sense.  We  have  too  much  civilization.  We  have 
too  much  of  the  new  century.  Herrara  or  Cordero  would 
laugh  his  plan  to  scorn.  Far  from  incensing  the  Kentuck- 
ianos,  they  would  let  the  captain  slip  through  their  fingers,  and 
wisely.  We  have  had  a  plenty  of  despatches  from  Nacogdo- 
ches  about  him ;  but  we  light  our  cigars  with  them,  my  dear 
sister." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Eunice  eagerly ;  "  but  what  does  De  Nava 
do?  Is  he  sending  out  an  army?"  Then  she  saw  she  was 
too  vehement :  she  collected  herself,  and  said,  "  You  see,  my 
dear  brother,  I  know  the  American  people.  I  know  that,  if 
injustice  is  done,  there  is  danger  of  war." 

"And  so  do  I,"  said  Barelo  sadly.  "And  when  war  comes, 
now  or  fifty  years  hence,  who  has  the  best  chances  on  these 
prairies,  —  your  Kentucky  giants,  or  my  master  four  thousand 
miles  away  in  the  Escorial  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know  when  the  army  started  ? "  said  Eunice, 
giving  him  time  to  pause. 

"Army!  there  is  no  army,  —  a  wretched  hundred  or  two 
of  lancers.  Oh !  they  left,  I  think  they  left  Chihuahua  just 
before  Christinas.  We  heard  of  them  at  El  Paso  last  week. 
That  was  when  we  got  this  order  for  two  troops  of  the  queen's 
regiment  to  go  back  to  the  commandant  to  take  their  places." 
And  then  he  added,  "I  am  as  much  annoyed  as  you  can 
be,  —  more.  But  a  soldier  is  a  soldier." 

"A  soldier  is  a  soldier,"  said  Eunice  almost  fiercely,  to 
Inez  afterward,  when  she  told  her  of  this  conversation,  "  and 
a  woman,  alas,  is  a  woman.  How  can  we  put  poor  Nolan 
on  his  guard,  —  tell  him  that  these  brigands  are  on  his  track  ? 
If  only  we  had  known  it  sooner  ! " 

How,  indeed !  For  William  Harrod  had  left  them  so  soon 
as  San  Antonio  was  in  sight.  He  had  called  off  with  him 
Richards  and  King  and  Adams,  and  had  said  lightly,  in  his 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  179 

really  tender  parting  from  Inez  and  Eunice,  that  he  should 
be  with  Nolan  in  five  days'  time.  He  counted  without  his 
host,  alas !  but  of  this  Eunice  and  Inez  knew  nothing  till  long 
after. 

"  Do  you  believe  Ransom  .could  slip  through? "  said  Eunice 
thoughtfully. 

"  He  could  and  he  could  not,"  said  Inez.  "  In  the  first 
place,  he  would  not  go.  The  Inquisition  could  not  make  him 
go.  He  is  here  to  take  care  of  you  and  me  :  if  you  and 
I  want  to  go,  he  will  take  us ;  and  we  shall  arrive  safely,  and 
Nolan,  dear  fellow,  will  be  saved.  But,  if  we  think  we  cannot 
tell  Aunt  Dolores  that  we  want  to  go  up  to  the  Upper  Brasses, 
why,  as  you  know,  Ransom  will  not  budge."  And  the  girl 
smiled  sadly  enough  through  her  tears. 

"  Me  will  go,"  said  White  Hawk,  who  was  looking  from  one 
to  the  other  as  they  spoke,  judging  by  their  faces,  rather  than 
their  words,  what  they  were  saying. 

"  Where  will  me  go  ? "  said  Inez,  hugging  her  and  kissing 
her.  The  wonder  and  depth  of  White  Hawk's  love  for  her 
was  always  a  new  joy  and  new  surprise  to  Inez,  who,  perhaps, 
had  not  been  fortunate  in  the  friends  whom  her  schoolgirl 
experiences  had  made  for  her  among  her  own  sex. 

"  Me  go  on  horse-trail ;  me  go  up  through  mesquit  country 
—  find  prairie  country ;  come  up  through  wood  three  day, 
four  day,  five  day  —  White  Wolf  River ;  me  swim  White 
Wolf  River  ;  more  woods  —  more  woods  five  day,  six,  seven 
day  —  no  matter  how  much  day ;  me  find  Harrod,  find  King, 
find  Richards,  find  Blackburn,  find  Nolan — find  other  plen 
ty  white  men,  good  white  men,  your  white  men  —  hunt 
horses,  plenty  horses  —  plenty  white  men." 

"  You  witch  !  "  cried  Inez ;  "  and  how  do  you  know  that  ? " 

White  Hawk  laughed  with  the  quiet  Indian  laugh,  which 
Inez  said  was  like  Ransom's  choicest  expression  of  satisfac 
tion. 

"  Know  it  with  my  ears  —  know  it  with  my  eyes.  See  it. 
Hear  it.  Think  it.  Know  it  all  — know  it  all." 


l8o  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

"  And  you  would  go  back  to  those  horrid  woods  and  thost 
fearful  Indians,  whom  you  hate  so  and  dread  so,  for  the  love 
of  your  poor  Inez  !  "  Inez  was  beside  herself  now,  and 
could  not  speak  for  crying. 

Of  course  White  Hawk's  proposal  could  not  be  heard  to 
for  an  instant  But  all  the  same :  it  had  its  fruit,  as  cour 
age  will. 

That  afternoon  there  was  some  grand  parade  of  the  little 
garrison,  so  that  the  cavaliers  whom  Eunice  and  Inez  relied 
upon  most  often  were  detained  at  their  posts.  But  Eunice 
proposed,  that,  rather  than  lose  their  regular  exercise,  they 
should  ride  with  the  attendance  of  Ransom,  and  rely  on 
meeting  the  major  and  the  other  gentlemen  as  they  returned. 
The  day  was  lovely ;  and  they  took  a  longer  ride  than  was 
usual  past  the  Alamo,  and  up  the  river-side. 

Six  or  seven  miles  distant  from  the  Presidio,  as  they  came 
out  on  a  lovely  opening,  which  they  had  made  their  object, 
they  found,  to  their  surprise,  a  little  camp  of  Indians,  who 
had  established  themselves  there  as  if  for  a  day  or  two. 
There  was  nothing  unusual  in  the  sight ;  and  the  riding  party 
would  hardly  have  stopped,  but  that  the  little  red  children 
came  screaming  after  them,  with  tones  quite  different  from 
the  ordinary  beggar-whine,  which  is  much  the  same  with 
Bedouins,  with  lazzaroni,  and  with  Indians.  White  Hawk, 
of  course,  first  caught  their  meaning.  "  Friends,  friends," 
she  said,  laughing, —  "old  friends,"  as  she  put  her  hand 
upon  Inez's  hand,  to  arrest  her  in  the  fast  gallop  in  which  she 
was  hurrying  along. 

Inez  thought  White  Hawk  meant  they  were  friends  of  hers, 
and  for  a  moment  drew  biidle.  Eunice  and  Ransom  stopped 
also, 

"  No,  no !  Friends,  —  your  friends,  Inez,  — your  friends." 
And,  as  Inez  turned,  indeed,  she  saw  waved  in  triumph  a 
scarf  which  was  no  common  piece  of  Indian  finery;  and 
which,  in  a  minute  more,  she  saw  was  the  scarf  she  had  given 
to  a  child  on  the  levee  of  the  Mississippi,  in  the  very  first 
week  of  their  voyaging. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  181 

"  Have  the  wretches  come  all  the  way  here  ?  "  she  said, 
surprised ;  and  she  stopped,  almost  unconsciously  now,  to 
see  what  they  would  say. 

To  her  amusement,  and  to  Eunice's  as  well,  with  great 
rapidity  and  much  running  to  and  fro  from  lodge  to  lodge, 
there  were  produced,  from  wrappings  as  many  as  if  they  had 
been  diamonds  or  rubies,  all  the  little  cuttings  of  paper,  — 
horses,  buffaloes,  dancing  boys  and  girls,  —  with  which 
Eunice  had  led  along  the  half -hour  while  they  were  waiting 
for  the  boatmen,  on  that  day  of  their  first  adventure. 

She  smiled  graciously,  not  sorry  that  she  had  a  good  horse 
under  her  this  time,  and  acknowledged  the  clamorous  hom 
age  which  one  after  another  paid  to  her.  Then,  remembering 
her  new  advantage,  she  asked  the  White  Hawk  to  interpret 
tor  her ;  and  the  girl  had  no  difficulty  in  doing  so. 

Eunice  bade  her  tell  them  that  she  could  make  them  no 
buffaloes  now,  —  not  even  an  antelope ;  but,  if  they  would 
come  down  to  the  Presidio  the  next  morning,  they  should  all 
have  some  sugar. 

They  said  they  were  afraid  to  come  to  the  Presidio  :  one 
of  their  people  had  been  flogged  there. 

A  grim  smile  appeared  on  Ransom's  face,  which  implied, 
to  those  who  knew  him,  a  wish  that  the  same  treatment  had 
gone  farther. 

"  Tell  them,  then,  that  I  will  send  them  some  sugar,  and 
send  them  some  antelopes,  if  they  will  come  to-morrow  morn 
ing  to  the  Alamo;"  and  the  White  Hawk  told  them,  and 
they  all  rode  on. 

"Do  you  not  see,"  said  Eunice  quickly,  "if  the  White 
Hawk  can  go  up  the  Brassos,  these  people  can  go  up  there  ? 
If  she  knows  the  way,  she  can  tell  them.  There  must  be 
some  way  in  which  they  can  take  a  token  or  a  letter." 

She  turned  her  horse,  so  soon  as  they  had  well  passed  the 
camp,  beckoned  Ransom  from  the  rear  to  join  her,  and  bade 
the  girls  fall  in  behind. 

Taking  up  the  road  homeward,  but  no  longer  galloping,  or 
even  trotting,  she  said  to  the  old  man, — 


i8a  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"  Ransom,  Capt.  Nolan  is  in  great  danger." 

"  Een  told  me  so,"  replied  he,  too  much  occupied  with 
anxious  thought  to  care  much  for  etiquette. 

"  There  are  a  hundred  or  two  Spanish  troopers  hunting 
him,  if  they  have  not  found  him ;  and,  what  is  worse,  they 
mean  to  fight  him,  Ransom." 

"  The  cap'n  '11  give  'em  hell,  ma'am." 

"  The  captain  will  fight  them  if  they  find  him ;  but,  Ran 
som,  they  must  not  find  him.  Ransom,  I  don't  want  the 
people  down  below  to  know  any  thing  about  this  ;  but  to 
morrow  morning,  some  of  these  Indians  must  start  with  a 
letter  to  the  captain ;  and  they  must  make  haste,  Ransom. 
Will  you  bring  it  out  here  before  daylight  ?  " 

"  Yes'm.  But  it  ain't  no  use.  Can't  send  no  letter.  Po^r 
set,  —  liars,  all  on  um.  Show  the  letter  to  the  priest  before 
they  go.  Priest  got  hold  uv  every  darn  one  on  um.  Tell 
um  all  he'll  roast  um  all,  ef  they  go  nigh  white  man.  Liars 
all  on  um,  —  can't  send  no  letter.  Tain't  no  use." 

"  Do  you  think  the  priest  knows  these  people  ? " 

"  Know  it,  jest  as  well  as  nothin'.  Hearn  um  tell  at 
market  to-day.  Old  Father  Jose*  cum  ;  and  the  young  one, 
black-haired  rascal,  he  cum  too  ;  cum  and  gin  um  a  picter- 
book,  and  cum  back  with  five  beaver  and  three  antelope 
skin,  and  two  buffaloes.  Gin  um  a  picter-book.  Hearn  all 
about  it  at  market.  All  liars  !  Injuns  is  liars ;  priests  is 
liars  too." 

Eunice  thought  of  tokens  which  messengers  had  carried, 
who  knew  not  what  they  bore.  She  longed  to  tell  Ransom 
some  story  of  Cyrus  or  of  Pyrrhus ;  but  she  contented  her 
self  with  saying,  — 

"  I  must  send  word."  And  she  called  Inez  to  her,  and 
the  White  Hawk. 

"  Ma-ry,  can  I  send  these  people  to  the  captain  ?  Can 
you  tell  them  how  to  go  ? " 

"  Tell  —  yes  —  now,"  and  the  girl  checked  her  horse,  as 
if  to  return  with  the  message. 


OK,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  183 

"  No,  not  now,  Ma-ry.  Can  I  write  ?  WiL  these  people 
take  the  letter?" 

"  Give  sugar,  —  much  sugar,  —  take  letter.  Take  it, 
throw  it  in  river,  throw  it  in  fire.  Ail  laugh.  Eat  sugar, 
throw  letter  away.  All  lie.  All  steal. 

"  Give  sugar,  little  sugar,  —  give  letter, — letter  say  Nola- 
send  other  letter.  Other  letter 'come,  you  give  sugar,  —  oh, 
giv<3  heap  sugar  !  heap  sugar —  see  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  —  I  see,"  said  Eunice.  "  When  they  come 
back  wib'.i  other  letter  from  Capt.  Nolan,  I  will  pay  them  with 
sugar.'' ' 

"See — yes  —  yes  —  see?     Heap  sugar  all  come." 

Then  she  opened  and  shut  her  hands  quickly. 

"  Five,  five,  five  days,  heap  sugar.  Five,  five,  five,  five 
days,  little  heap  sugar.  Five,  five,  five,  five,  five,  five,  days, 
gourd  of  sugar.  More  days,  no  sugar,  no  sugar,  bad  Indian. 
Nolan  dead.  No  sugar  at  all." 

"  Ma-ry,  these  people  know  the  priest.  Father  Jos^  they 
know.  Father  Jeronimo  they  know.  Priests  do  not  love 
Nolan.  Will  they  show  the  priest  my  letter  ?  " 

The  girl  took  the  question  in  an  instant,  —  took  it,  it 
would  seem,  before  it  was  asked.  Her  face  changed. 

"  Show  old  White  Head  letter,  —  White  Head  tear  letter, 
burn  letter." 

But  in  an  instant  she  added,  — 

"White  Hawk  send  skin.  Old  White  Head  no  read  skin." 
And  she  flung  up  her  head  like  a  princess,  proud  of  her 
superior  accomplishment.  Eunice  took  her  idea  at  once, 
praised  her,  and  encouraged  it.  The  girl  meant,  that,  if  she 
traced  on  the  back  of  an  antelope-skin  one  of  the  hiero 
glyphic  pictures  of  the  Indian  tribes,  Nolan  would  under 
stand  the  warning  she  gave  ;  while  the  average  Franciscan, 
wilh  all  his  accomplishments,  would  let  it  pass  without  com 
prehending  its  meaning. 

In  such  discussions,  on  an  easy  gallop,  they  returned 
homeward.  As  they  approached  the  garrison,  they  met  Mr. 


<84  rillLIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Lonsdale,  the  stranger  whom  the  gossiping  party  of  ladies 
had  pronounced  so  mysterious.  Eunice,  to  say  the  truth,  was 
much  of  their  mind.  Who  Mr.  Lonsdale  was,  what  he  was, 
and  why  he  was  there,  no  one  knew.  And,  while  she  disliked 
the  gossiping  habit  of  most  of  the  people  around  her,  she  did 
not  like  to  be  in  daily  intercourse  with  a  man  who  might  be  a 
spy  from  the  headquarters  at  the  City  of  Mexico,  might  be 
an  agent  of  the  King  of  England,  might  be  any  thing  the 
Mexican  ladies  said  he  was. 

For  all  this,  he  and  the  ladies  were  on  terms  externally 
friendly.  He  stopped  as  they  approached,  and  asked  per 
mission  to  join  their  party,  which  Eunice,  of  course,  granted 
cordially.  He  turned,  and  rode  with  her.  The  two  girls 
dropped  behind. 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  said,  — 

"  I  should  be  sorry  to  be  the  bearer  of  bad  news,  Miss 
Perry.  Perhaps  you  are  indifferent  to  my  news.  But  I  came 
out  hoping  to  meet  you." 

And  he  stopped  as  if  hesitating  anew. 

Eunice  said,  with  a  shade  of  dignity,  that  she  was  much 
obliged  to  him. 

"I  thought — I  supposed  —  I  did  not  know,"  said  the 
Englishman,  with  more  even  than  the  usual  difficulty  of  his 
countrymen  in  opening  a  conversation,  "you  may  not  have 
heard  that  a  military  force  is  in  the  upper  valleys,  looking  for 
the  American  horse-hunters." 

What  did  this  man  mean  ?  Was  he  a  quiet  emissary  from 
the  provincial  capital,  whose  business  it  was  to  gain  informa 
tion  about  poor  Nolan  ?  Was  he  trying  to  get  a  crumb  from 
Miss  Perry  ?  She  was  quite  on  her  guard.  She  felt  quite 
sure  of  her  ground,  too,  —  that  she  could  foil  him,  by  as 
simple  an  artifice  as  —  the  truth. 

"Oh,  yes,  Mr.  Lonsdale!  I  have  heard  tms.  I  heard  it 
from  Mme.  Malgares,  and  in  more  detail  from  one  of  the 
officers." 

"Then  perhaps  you  know  more  than  I  do." 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  185 

"Very  probably,"  said  Eunice,  not  without  the  slightest 
shade  of  triumph. 

The  mysterious  Mr.  Lonsdale  was  thrown  off  his  guard 
Eunice  had  no  wish  to  relieve  him;  and  they  rode  on  in 
silence.  With  some  gulping,  and  possibly  a  little  flush,  he 
said,  "  I  had  thought  you  might  be  anxious  about  Mr.  Nolan, 
or  about  the  Kentucky  gentlemen.  I  understood  Miss  Inez 
to  speak  as  if  some  of  them  were  your  escort  here.'5 

How  much  did  he  krow,  and  how  little?  Eunice's  first 
thought  was  to  say,  "  The  Kentucky  gentlemen  will  take 
care  of  themselves."  But  this  tone  of  defiance  might  compli 
cate  things.  Once  more  she  tried  the  truth. 

"  Oh,  yes !  Mr.  Harrod  and  two  or  three  more  of  that 
party  came  to  Antonio  with  us."  She  longed  to  say,  "  Why 
did  not  your  king  pounce  on  them  then  ? "  but  again  she  was 
prudent. 

Mr.  Lonsdale  tried  to  break  her  guard  once  more.  "The 
Spanish  force  is  quite  a  large  one,"  said  he. 

Eunice  longed  to  say,  "  I  know  that  toe  '  But  her  con 
versation  with  Major  Barelo  had  been  confidential.  She 
said,  "  Indeed  ! "  and  the  Englishman  was  disarmed.  He 
made  no  further  attempt.  They  came  without  another  word 
to  the  colonel's  quarters ;  he  helped  the  proud  Miss  Perry  to 
dismount,  and  the  ladies  sought  their  own  apartments. 

Before  bedtime  the  White  Hawk  brought  her  letter  to 
Eunice.  She  came  into  the  double  room  which  Eunice  and 
her  niece  occupied ;  and  she  bore  on  her  back  a  parcel  of 
skins,  exactly  as  a  squaw  might  bring  them  into  the  ware 
house  for  trade.  She  flung  them  down  on  the  floor  with  just 
the  air  of  a  tired  Indian,  glad  his  tramp  was  at  an  end. 
Then,  with  a  very  perfect  imitation  of  the  traders'  jargon, 
she  said,  — 

"  Buy  skin  ?  ugh  ?  good  skin  ?  ugh  ?  Five  skin,  six  skin, 
good  skin.  Buy?  ugh?  Whiskey,  sugar,  powder, — one 
whiskey,  two  sugar,  four  powder,  —  six  skin.  Ugh  ?  " 

And  she  held  up  one  hand,  and  the  forefinger  of  the  other. 


186  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Eunice  and  Inez  laughed;  and  Inez  said, — 
"  Yes,  yes !   good   skin  —  buy  skin  —  one  skin,  five  skin 
Heap  sugar,  heap  whiskey,  heap  powder !  " 

So  the  mock  bargain  was  completed.  The  girls  knelt,  and 
untied  the  cords ;  and  the  White  Hawk  affected  to  praise  her 
skins,  —  the  color,  the  smoothness,  the  age,  and  so  on.  And 
when  she  had  played  out  her  joke,  and  not  till  then,  she 
turned  them  all  over,  and  showed  the  grotesque  figures  which 
she  had  drawn  on  the  back  of  one  of  them.  Even  to 
Eunice's  eye,  although  she  had  the  clew,  they  showed  nothing. 
Perhaps  she  began  at  the  top  when  she  should  have  begun 
at  the  bottom :  perhaps  she  began  at  the  bottom  when  she 
should  have  begun  at  the  middle.  Ma-ry  enjoyed  her  puzzled 
expression,  but  made  no  sign  till  Eunice  said,  — 
"I  can  make  nothing  of  it.  You  must  show  me." 
Then  the  White  Hawk  laughed  and  explained.  From 
point  to  point  of  the  skin  her  finger  dashed  —  who  should 
say  by  what  law?  But  here  was  a  group  made  up  of  an 
eagle  and  ten  hands,  ten  feet,  and  ten  other  hands.  This 
meant  a  hundred  eagles  and  fifty  more,  —  and  eagles  were 
"enemies."  In  a  distant  corner  was  a  round  shield,  in 
another  a  lance  with  scalps  attached,  in  another  the  feather 
of  a  helmet.  This  showed  that  she  supposed  the  enemies 
were  lancers ;  that  they  wore  the  Spanish  helmet,  and  carried 
the  Spanish  shields.  Another  character  had  three  Roman 
crosses :  these  were  the  crosses  of  the  cathedral  at  Chihua 
hua.  Nolan  had  seen  them,  and  the  White  Hawk  had  heard 
of  them.  Far  and  wide  had  their  fame  gone  among  those 
simple  people  ;  for  that  cathedral  was  as  the  St.  Peter's  of 
the  whole  of  Northern  Mexico.  And  so  the  record  went  on. 
The  White  Hawk  assured  her  friends  that  so  soon  as  Nolan 
or  Harrod  saw  the  skin  they  would  know  what,  as  the  ladies 
could  very  well  understand,  very  few  white  men  would  know  : 
that  a  hundred  and  fifty  Spanish  lancers  had  left  Chihuahua 
in  search  of  him.  Then  she  showed  where  the  representa 
tion  of  six  bears'  paws  showed  that  on  the  s  ixth  day  of  the 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  187 

moon  of  the  bears  the  expedition  started  ;  and  tl  en  where  a 
chestnut-burr,  by  the  side  of  men  fording  a  river,  showed 
that  they  crossed  the  Rio  Grande  after  the  month  of  chest 
nuts  had  come  in. 

All  this  Eunice  heard  and  approved  with  wonder.  She 
praised  the  girl  to  her  heart's  content. 

"  Where  did  you  find  your  colors,  my  darling  ? " 

And  Ma-ry  confessed,  that,  failing  walnut-husks  and  oak- 
galls,  she  had  contented  herself  with  Inez's  inkstand. 

"  But  this  red  around  the  scalps,  this  red  crest  of  the  tur 
key's  head,  these  red  smooches  on  the  lances  ? " 

The  White  Hawk  paused  a  moment,  turned  off  the  question 
as  if  it  were  an  idle  one  ;  but,  when  she  was  pressed,  she 
stripped  up  the  sleeve  of  her  dress,  and  showed  the  fresh 
wound  upon  her  arm,  where  she  had,  without  hesitation,  used 
her  own  blood  for  vermilion. 

Then  Inez  kissed  her  again  and  again.  But  the  girl  would 
not  pretend  that  she  thought  this  either  pain  or  sacrifice. 

Eunice  thanked  her,  but  told  her  she  must  always  trust 
them  more.  And  then  they  all  corded  up  the  pack  together  ; 
and,  under  the  White  Hawk's  hands,  it  assumed  again  the 
aspect  of  the  most  unintelligent  bale  of  furs  that  ever  passed 
from  an  Indian's  hands  to  a  trader's.  It  was  agreed,  that  at 
daybreak  Ransom  and  Ma-ry  should  carry  the  parcel  to  the 
Indian  camp,  and  Ma-ry  should  try  the  force  of  her  rhetoric, 
backed  with  promises  of  heaps  of  sugar,  to  send  a  party  with 
the  message. 

"  It  is  all  very  fine,"  said  Inez ;  "  and,  if  that  skin  ever 
reaches  him,  I  suppose  that  he  or  Capt.  Harrod  will  disen 
tangle  its  riddles.  But  I  have  more  faith  in  ten  words  of 
honest  English  than  in  all  this  galimatias" 

"  So  have  I,  dear  child,  if  the  honest  English  ever  comes 
to  him.  See  what  I  have  done.  I  have  begged  from  Dolores 
this  pretty  prayer-book.  There  is  no  treason  there.  I  have 
loosened  the  parchment  cover  here,  and  have  written  on  the 
inside  of  it  your  ten  words,  and  more.  See,  I  said,  — 


l88  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

u  *  The  governor  sent  a  hundred  and  fifty  lancers  after  you  at  Christ 
mas.  They  were  at  El  Paso  last  week,  and  mean  fight.' 

"  You  see  I  printed  this  in  old  text,  and  matched  the  color 
of  the  old  Latin,  as  well  as  its  character.  These  people  shall 
take  that  to  Capt.  Nolan  with  this  note." 

And  she  read  the  note  she  had  written  :  — 

"'Mv  DEAR  COUSIN,  — May  the  Holy  Mother  keep  you  in  her  remem 
brance  !  My  prayer  for  you,  day  and  night,  is  that  you  may  be  saved. 
Forget  the  vanities  and  sins  of  those  shameless  heretics,  and  enter  into 
the  arms  of  our  mother,  the  Church.  Study  well,  in  each  day's  prayers, 
the  holy  book  I  send  you.  On  our  knees  we  daily  beg  that  you  may  see 
the  errors  of  your  wandering,  and  return.' 

"That  will  make  him  search  the  book  through  and 
through  ;  and  if  he  does  not  rip  off  this  parchment  cover, 
and  find  what  I  have  written  on  the  inside,  he  is  not  the 
man  I  take  him  to  be. 

"  And  now,  girls,  go  to  bed,  both  of  you  :  Ma-ry  will  need 
to  be  moving  bright  and  early,  if  she  is  to  take  this  to  the 
redskins  before  the  fort  is  stirring." 


OR,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS.11  189 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

MINES   AND    COUNTER-MINES. 

"  Seek  not  thou  to  find 
The  sacred  counsels  of  almighty  mind : 
Involved  in  darkness  lies  the  great  decree, 
Nor  can  the  depths  of  fate  be  pierced  by  thee ; 
What  fits  thy  knowledge,  thou  the  first  shalt  know." 

HOMER. 

WITH  the  gray  of  the  morning  the  White  Hawk  left  the 
house,  and  found  her  way  out  of  the  little  settlement.  The 
girl's  history  was  perfectly  known  to  every  one  at  the  post, 
and  any  waywardness  in  her  habits  attracted  no  surprise  ; 
indeed,  it  attracted  no  attention.  On  his  part,  Ransom  had 
saddled  his  own  horse,  had  fastened  behind  the  saddle  the 
pack  of  furs,  and  a  package,  only  not  quite  so  large,  of  the 
much-prized  sugar. 

"  All  nonsense,"  he  had  said  to  Eunice.  "  Gin  um  two 
quarts  whiskey,  and  they'll  go  to  hell  for  you.  Sugar's  poor 
sugar :  your  brother  would  not  look  at  it,  it's  so  bad ;  but  it's 
too  good  for  them  redskins.  Gin  um  whiskey." 

But  Eunice  was  resolute  ;  and  the  old  man  knew  that  he 
must  throw  the  sugar  away,  because  she  so  bade  him.  He 
satisfied  himself,  therefore,  with  taking  from  the  storehouse 
on  her  order  just  twice  as  much  as  she  had  bidden  him.  He 
was  well  clear  of  any  observation  from  the  Presidio  when  he 
saw  Ma-ry  in  advance  of  him,  moving  so  quickly  that  he  had 
to  abandon  the  walk  of  his  horse,  and  come  to  a  trot,  that  he 
might  overtake  her. 


igo  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"Mornin',  Miss  Mary:  better  jump  up  here.  The  old 
bay's  often  carried  Miss  Inez." 

And  in  a  moment  he  had  lifted  the  girl,  who  was  an  expert 
in  horsemanship  in  all  its  guises,  so  that  she  sat  behind  him 
on  the  pack  of  furs,  steadying  herself  by  placing  one  hand 
upon  his  shoulder.  Having  entirely  satisfied  himself,  after 
the  first  few  days  of  his  observation  of  the  White  Hawk,  that 
she  was,  in  very  truth,  neither  a  "nigger"  nor  an  "  Ingin," 
he  had  taken  her  into  the  sacred  chamber  of  his  high  favor, 
and  did  not  regard  her  as  humbug  or  liar,  which  is  more  than 
can  be  said  of  his  regard  for  most  men  and  women. 

"Want  ye  to  tell  them  redskins  to  keep  away  from  them 
priests  and  friars,  Miss  Mary.  Priests  and  friars  ain't  no 
good  nowhere.  These  here  is  wuss  than  most  on  um  be. 
Tell  the  redskins  to  keep  clear  on  um." 

The  White  Hawk  thought  she  understood  him,  and  said  so. 

"  Tell  um  to  make  haste,  lazy  critters,  if  they  can.  Wanted 
to  go  myself  to  tell  Mr.  Nolan.  Can't  go,  cos  must  stay  with 
the  young  ladies.  But  I  could  get  there  and  back  'fore  them 
lazy  redskins  will  go  half  way.  Tell  um  to  be  here  in 
a  week,  and  we'll  give  um  five  pounds  of  good  sugar,  every 
man  on  um." 

Ma-ry  understood  enough  to  know  that  this  proposal  was 
absurd.  She  told  Ransom,  in  language  which  he  did  not 
understand,  that  if  the  messengers  reached  Nolan  in  less 
than  eight  or  ten  days  it  would  be  by  marvellous  good  luck. 
As  she  did  not  use  his  words,  spoke  of  suns  and  nights,  and 
of  hands  whenever  she  would  say  "five,"  the  old  man  did  not 
at  all  follow  her  ;  but  he  was  relieved  by  thinking  that  she 
understood  him,  and  said  so. 

"  That's  so :  let  um  travel  all  day  and  all  aight  too.  I'd 
get  there  myself  by  day  arter  to-morrow ;  but  them  redskins 
don't  know  nothin'." 

The  truth  was,  that  he  was  as  ignorant  as  a  mole  of  Nolan's 
position  and  of  the  way  thither.  But  he  had  alwavs  relied, 
and  not  in  vain,  on  his  own  quick  good  sense,  h»  iron 


OR.   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  191 

strength,  and  his  intense  determination  to  achieve  any  task 
he  had  in  hand  more  promptly  than  those  around  him.  He 
did  not,  therefore,  even  know  that  he  was  bragging.  He 
meant  merely  to  say  that  the  Indians  were  as  nearly  worth 
less  as  human  beings  could  be  ;  that  their  ability  v/as  less 
than  his  in  the  proportion  of  one-fifth  to  one ;  an  i,  by  the 
extravagance  of  his  language,  to  wash  his  hands,  even  in 
the  White  Hawk's  eyes,  of  any  participation  in  the  responsi 
bility  of  this  undertaking. 

They  were  soon  in  sight  of  the  smoke  of  the  lodges  ;  and 
in  a  moment  more  were  surrounded  by  the  beggar  children 
of  a  beggar  tribe,  eager  for  paper  gods,  for  whiskey,  for  sugar, 
for  ribbons,  for  tobacco,  or  for  any  thing  else  that  might  be 
passing. 

Ma-ry  sought  out  and  found  the  man  who  could  best  be 
called  the  chief  of  the  party.  Ransom  had  dismounted  ;  but 
she  sat  upon  the  saddle  still,  and  took  an  air  which  was 
wholly  imperial  in  her  dealings  with  the  Crooked  Feather. 
Ransom  said  afterward  to  Inez,  "  The  gal's  a  queen  in  her 
own  country,  she  is."  Ma-ry  did  not  ask  :  she  directed. 

The  man  was  amazed  that  she  spoke  to  him  in  his  own 
language.  No  white  man  or  woman  of  the  Presidio  had  ever 
accosted  him  so  till  now.  He  had  seen  her  only  the  day 
before  with  a  party  from  the  fort ;  and  he  knew  very  well 
that  they  represented  the  dignitaries  of  the  fort.  He  did  not 
know  who  she  was,  nor  did  the  girl  make  any  endeavor  to 
explain. 

Simply  she  bade  him,  in  the  most  peremptory  way,  take 
the  skins  and  the  little  parcel  which  she  gave  him  to  the 
Hunting-party  whom  he  would  find  on  the  Tockanhono,  and 
to  be  sure  he  was  there  before  the  moon  changed.  When  he 
had  done  this  he  was  to  come  back,  also  as  soon  as  might 
be ;  and  when  he  returned,  if  he  brought  any  token  from  the 
long-knife  chief  whom  he  found  there,  he  was  to  have  sugar 
in  heaps  which  almost  defy  the  powers  of  our  numeration. 
A.11  the  party  were  to  have  heaps  of  it.  In  guerdon,  or 


192  PHILIP  NOLAN^S  FRIENDS  ; 

token,  Ransom  was  now  permitted  to  open  the  little  pack  of 
sugar  which  he  had  brought  with  him,  which  then  lay  in 
tempting  profusion  in  its  open  wrapper  while  Ma-ry  spoke. 
She  was  a  little  annoyed  to  see  that  her  order  —  for  it  was 
hers  originally  —  had  been  so  largely  exceeded. 

As  for  the  size  of  the  party,  the  Crooked  Feather  might  go 
alone,  or  he  might  take  all  the  lodges,  as  he  chose  :  only  ho 
must  not  tarry.  For  all  who  went,  and  all  who  returned, 
there  would  be  sugar  if  they  were  here  before  the  third  quar 
ter  of  the  new  moon.  If  as  late  as  the  next  moon,  there 
would  be  no  sugar;  and  the  White  Hawk's  expression  of 
disgust  at  a  result  so  wretched  was  tragical.  The  so-called 
stoics  to  whom  she  spoke  affected  feelings  of  dismay  equa1 
to  hers. 

Crooked  Feather  ventured  to  suggest  that  a  little  whiskey 
made  travel  quicker. 

The  imperial  lady  rebuked  him  sternly  for  the  proposal, 
and  he  shrunk  back  ashamed. 

In  a  rapid'  council  he  then  decided  that  only  five  horses 
with  their  riders  should  go,  and  this  under  his  own  lead. 
As  for  the  sugar  which  Ransom  had  brought  and  laid  before 
them,  it  was  nothing :  even  a  rabbit  would  not  see  that  any 
sugar  lay  there.  In  token  of  which,  as  they  talked,  the 
Crooked  Feather  and  his  companions  scooped  it  up  in  their 
hands,  and  ate  it  all ;  it  would  not  have  vanished  sooner  had 
it  been  some  light  soup  provided  for  their  refreshment.  But 
he  understood  that  his  supposed  "  White  Father "  who  had 
provided  this  had  sent  it  only  as  a  little  token  of  good-will, 
—  clearly  could  not,  indeed,  send  more,  besides  the  furs  and 
the  princess,  on  the  back  of  Ransom's  saddle.  A  chief  of 
the  rank  and  following  of  Crooked  Feather  was  substantially, 
he  said,  the  equal  of  his  Great  Father  personally  unknown 
to  him.  But  he  wore  and  showed  a  crucifix,  which  his  Great 
Father  had  sent  to  him ;  and  as  the  Great  Father  had  set  his 
heart  on  sending  these  skins  to  the  long-knife  chieftain,  who 
was  an  intimate  friend  of  Crooked  Feather's,  according  to 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  193 

that  worthy's  own  account,  why,  Crooked  Feather  would  per 
sonally  undertake  their  safe  conduct. 

Even  while  this  harangue  went  on,  the  squaws  detailed  for 
that  duty  were  packing  the  beasts  who  were  to  go  on  the 
expedition,  hastily  folding  the  skins  of  the  lodge  which  was 
to  go. 

Ma-ry  was  a  little  surprised  to  find  that  she  was  mistaken 
for  an  emissary  of  King  Charles  the  Fourth,  or  of  the  Pope 
of  Rome.  In  truth,  she  could  not  herself  have  named  these 
dignitaries,  nor  had  she  the  least  idea  of  their  pretensions. 
It  was  idle  to  try  to  explain  that  her  Great  Father  was  a  very 
different  person  from  the  Great  Father  who  had  started  the 
crucifix.  She  simply  applauded  the  purpose  of  the  Crooked 
Feather  to  do  what  she  had  told  him  to  do ;  and  she  did  not 
hesitate  to  give  precise  instructions  to  the  women  who  were 
packing  the  horses,  in  the  same  queenly  manner  with  which 
she  had  spoken  before. 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  party  was  on  its  way,  having  long 
before  consumed  to  the  last  crumb  all  the  sugar.  Ransom 
and  Ma-ry  returned  home.  They  parted  at  the  spot  where 
they  had  met.  Ma-ry  entered  the  Presidio  on  one  side,  and 
Ransom  on  the  other,  and  it  was  clear  that  the  absence  of 
neither  of  them  had  challenged  any  remark  in  the  laziness  of 
a  Spanish  town.  Ma-ry  told  her  story  with  glee  to  the  ladies. 
Inez  fondled  and  Eunice  praised  her,  only  trying  to  warn 
her  of  the  essential  difference  between  such  a  great  father  as 
Silas  Perry  and  such  another  as  Pope  Pius ;  of  which,  how 
ever,  to  repeat  again  MacDonald's  remark  to  the  Japanese 
governors,  "  She  could  make  nothing." 

The  same  evening  the  Crooked  Feather,  who  had  been 
true  to  his  promise  of  speed,  had  advanced  as  far  as  Gauda- 
loupe  River.  He  found  there  a  camp-fire,  a  little  tent,  and 
three  horses  tethered.  It  proved  that  the  party  there  con 
sisted  of  three  fathers  of  the  Franciscan  order,  who  had  left 
the  Alamo  for  an  outpost  mission. 

The  fathers  were  patronizing  and  courteous.     They  asked 


194  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

the  purpose  of  Crooked  Feather,  and  he  told  them.  They 
then  produced  some  grape  brandy,  such  as  the  missions  were 
permitted  to  make  for  their  own  use,  in  contravention  of 
the  royal  policy  which  weighed  upon  persons  not  ghostly. 
Crooked  Feather  took  his  portion  large,  and  allotted  lesser 
quotas  to  his  companions. 

With  the  second  draught  he  went  into  more  minute  particu 
lars  as  to  his  enterprise,  and  those  who  sent  him.  But  the 
fathers  seemed  to  take  no  interest  in  his  narrative. 

As  soon  as  the  liquor  had  done  its  perfect  work,  and  all 
the  Indians  slept  in  a  drunken  sleep,  Father  Jeronimo  cut 
open  the  bale  of  furs,  and  shook  them  to  see  what  might  be 
hidden.  When  nothing  came  out,  he  examined  the  skins, 
and  at  once  found  Ma-ry's  runes.  Of  these  "  he  could  make 
nothing."  But  he  said,  with  a  smile,  to  the  worthy  Brother 
Diego  who  assisted  him,  that  it  was  a  pity  to  lead  others  into 
temptation  ;  and  he  took  out  that  skin  from  the  parcel  to  place 
it  under  his  own  blanket. 

As  the  Crooked  Feather  slept  heavily,  there  was  no  diffi 
culty  in  relieving  him  also  of  the  smaller  parcel  which  Ma-ry 
had  given  to  him.  Father  Diego  crossed  himself,  and  so  did 
the  other,  on  opening  it.  They  found  the  familiar  aspect  of 
a  little  book  of  devotion.  None  the  less  did  the  older  priest 
cut  open  the  stitches  which  held  on  the  parchment  over- 
cover.  When  he  noticed,  among  the  words  which  covered  the 
inside,  some  which  he  knew  were  neither  Spanish  nor  Latin, 
he  folded  the  parchment  carefully,  and  put  it  in  his  bosom. 
He  enclosed  in  it,  as  he  did  so,  Eunice's  friendly  note,  of 
which  he  could  read  no  word.  He  then  tied  up  the  book  in 
its  wrapper  precisely  as  it  had  been  folded  before. 

With  his  "  tokens "  thus  improved  upon,  and  with  the 
worst  headache  he  had  ever  known  in  his  life,  the  Crooked 
Feather  started  the  next  morning,  at  a  later  hour  than  he  had 
intended,  on  his  mission. 

At  an  earlier  hour  the  three  Fathers  had  started  on  theirs. 


OK.   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  195 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

WILL  HARROD'S  FORTUNES. 

"  The  fragrant  birch  above  him  hung 

Its  tassels  in  the  sky ; 
And  many  a  vernal  blossom  sprung 
And  nodded  careless  by. 

But  there  was  weeping  far  away ; 

And  gentle  eyes,  for  him, 
With  watching  many  an  anxious  day, 

Were  sorrowful  and  dim." 

BRYANT. 

IT  is  time  to  go  back  to  the  fortunes  of  poor  Will  Harrod, 
who  had  fared,  as  the  winter  passed,  much  less  satisfactorily 
than  any  of  the  rest  of  our  little  party. 

With  no  other  adventure  which  we  have  thought  need  de 
tain  the  eager  or  the  sluggish  reader,  Harrod  had  held  on  his 
pleasant  journey  with  the  ladies  till  they  were  fairly  within 
sight  of  the  crosses  of  the  church,  as  they  approached  San 
Antonio.  Then  he  bade  them  farewell,  with  more  regret  than 
the  poor  fellow  dared  express  in  words,  —  not  with  more 
than  Eunice  expected,  or  than  Inez  knew. 

He  said,  very  frankly,  that  his  duty  to  his  commander  was 
to  join  him  as  soon  as  might  be,  with  three  companions,  who 
were  so  much  force  taken  from  the  strength  of  the  hunting- 
party.  He  said,  that,  if  he  took  these  men  with  him  into  the 
Presidio,  there  was  the  possibility  that  they  might  all  be  de 
tained,  whatever  the  courtesy  of  Major  Barelo,  and  in  face  of 
the  permission  which  De  Nava  had  given  to  Nolan.  And 


196  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

therefore,  he  said,  though  each  day  that  he  was  wita  them 
was  indescribably  delightful  to  him,  —  nay,  happier  than  any 
days  had  ever  been  before,  —  he  should  tear  himself  away 
now,  hoping  that  it  might  not  be  very  long  before  at  Antonio, 
or  perhaps  at  Orleans,  they  might  all  meet  again. 

And  the  loyal  fellow  would  permit  himself  to  say  no  more. 
Not  though  he  had  given  every  drop  of  his  heart's  blood  to 
Inez, — though  he  \vas  willing  enough  that  she  should  guess 
that  he  hid  given  it  to  her,  —  yet  he  would  not  in  words  say 
so  to  her,  nor  ask  the  question  to  which  the  answer  seemed 
to  him  to  be  life  or  death.  The  young  reader  of  to-day  must 
judge  whether  this  loyalty  or  chivalry  of  his  was  Quixotic. 
Poor  Harrod  had  time  enough  to  consider  it  afterward,  and 
to  ask  himself,  in  every  varying  tone  of  feeling  and  temper, 
whether  he  were  right  or  wrong.  At  every  night's  encamp 
ment  on  this  journey  he  had  gone  backward  and  forward  on 
the  "  ifs  "  and  "  buts  "  of  the  same  inquiry.  He  had  deter 
mined,  wisely  or  not  wisely,  that  he  would  not  in  words  ask 
Inez  if  she  would  take  that  heart  which  was  all  her  own. 
First,  because  he  had  no  home  to  offer  her.  He  was  an 
adventurer,  and  only  an  adventurer ;  and  just  now  the  spe 
cial  adventure  in  which  he  was  enlisted  promised  very  little 
to  any  engaged  in  it.  Second,  he  had  known  Inez  only  be 
cause  she  had  been  intrusted  to  his  care ;  and  she  was  in 
trusted  to  his  care,  not  by  her  father,  but  by  Philip  Nolan, 
whom  he  almost  adored,  who  was  the  person  to  whose  care 
her  father  had  intrusted  her.  Perhaps  her  father  would  not 
have  intrusted  her  to  him.  Who  knew  ?  Very  certainly  Mr. 
Perry  would  not  have  intrusted  her  to  him,  Master  William 
Harrod  thought,  had  he  supposed,  that,  before  a  month  was 
orei,  he  was  going  to  play  the  Moor  to  this  lovely  Desde 
nrnna,  and  steal  her  from  her  father's  home. 

So  William  Harrod  spoke  no  word  of  love  to  Inez.  To 
Eunice  Perry  he  had  committed  himself  through  and  through. 
To  Inez  he  said  nothing  —  in  words.  If  every  v/atchful 
attention  meant  any  thing  in  the  girl's  eyes ;  if  the  most  deli 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  197 

cate  remembrance  of  her  least  wish,  if  provision  for  every 
whim,  if  care  of  her  first  in  every  moment  of  inconvenience 
or  trial,  —  if  these  meant  any  thing,  why,  all  that  they  mean( 
he  meant ;  but  he  said  nothing. 

It  is  not  fair  to  say  or  to  guess  whether  Inez  understood 
all  this,  how  far  she  understood  it,  or,  which  is  a  question 
more  subtle,  whether  she  ever  asked  herself  if  she  understood 
it.  Inez  laid  down  to  herself  this  rule,  —  not  an  inconvenient 
one,  —  that  she  would  treat  him  exactly  as  she  treated  Philip 
Nolan.  Philip  Nolan  did  not  want  to  marry  her,  she  did  not 
want  to  marry  him  :  yet  they  were  the  best  of  friends.  She 
could  joke  with  him,  she  could  talk  rhodomontade  with  him, 
she  could  be  serious  with  him.  They  had  prayed  together, 
kneeling  before  the  same  altar ;  they  had  danced  together  at 
the  same  ball ;  they  had  talked  together  by  the  hour,  riding 
under  these  solemn  moss-grown  trees.  She  would  be  as 
much  at  ease  with  Philip  Nolan's  friend  as  she  was  with 
Philip  Nolan.  That  ease  he  had  no  right  to  mistake,  nor 
had  any  one  a  right  to  criticise. 

There  was  but  one  thing  which  gave  the  girl  cause  to 
ponder  on  her  relations  to  this  young  man :  it  would  be 
hardly  right  to  say  that  it  gave  her  uneasiness.  But  here 
was  her  aunt  Eunice,  who  had  never  before  had  any  secret 
from  her,  and  from  whom  she  had  never  had  any  secret. 
There  was  not  a  theme  so  lofty,  there  was  not  a  folly  so 
petty,  but  that  she  and  Aunt  Eunice  had  talked  it  over,  up 
and  down,  back  and  forth,  right  and  left.  Why  did  Aunt 
Eunice  never  say  one  word  to  her  about  William  Harrod  ? 
3he  never  guarded  her,  never  snubbed  her,  never  praised 
him,  never  blamed  him.  If  Harrod  and  Inez  rode  together 
all  through  an  afternoon,  talking  of  books,  of  poets,  of  reli 
gion,  or  of  partners,  of  ribbons,  or  of  flowers,  or  of  clouds, 
or  of  sunset,  when  they  came  in  at  night,  Aunt  Eunice  had 
no  word  of  caution,  none  of  curiosity.  This  was  not  in  the 
least  natural ;  but  it  was  a  reserve  which  Inez  did  not  quite 
venture  to  break  in  upon. 


198  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS- 

Be  it  observed  at  the  same  moment,  that  Inez  was  not  one 
of  the  people  who  have  been  spoken  of,  who  believed  that 
there  was  a  tenderness  between  Phil  Nolan  and  her  aunt 
Inez  knew  the  absurdity  of  that  theory.  On  the  other  hand, 
Inez  had  never  forgotten  twenty  words  of  confidence  which 
Philip  Nolan  gave  her  two  years  before  the  time  of  which  we 
speak,  when  she  was  beginning  to  feel  that  dolls  were  not  all 
in  all,  when  she  was  growing  tall,  and  was  very  proud  of  such 
confidence.  Philip  Nolan  had  shown  Inez  a  picture  then,  — 
a  very  lovely  picture  of  a  lady  with  a  very  charming  face  ; 
and  this  picture  was  not  a  picture  of  her  Aunt  Eunice.  Inez 
believed  in  men,  and  as  she  knew  Phil  Nolan's  secret,  she 
had  never  been  misled  by  the  theory  that  there  was  any  ten 
der  understanding  between  him  and  her  aunt. 

Was  there,  then,  any  mysterious  understanding  between 
William  Harrod  and  her  aunt?  No!  Inez  did  not  believe 
that  either.  True,  it  would  happen  that  there  would  be  rides 
as  long  when  he  and  her  aunt  were  together,  and  when  Ma-ry 
and  Inez  were  together,  as  there  were  when  he  and  she  talked 
of  any  thing  in  heaven  above,  and  earth  beneath,  and  the 
waters  under  the  earth.  And  when  Aunt  Eunice  and  Capt. 
Harrod  had  been  thus  talking  together  all  the  afternoon,  or 
all  the  morning,  when  they  came  into  camp,  while  the  men 
were  tethering  the  horses,  and  the  women,  in  the  relief  of 
moccasons,  were  lying  alone  before  the  fire,  even  then  never 
did  Aunt  Eunice  say  one  word  beyond  the  merest  outside- 
talk  of  ford  or  mud,  or  sun  or  rain,  which  made  any  allusion 
to  William  Harrod. 

There  was  one  person,  however,  who  made  not  the  slight 
est  question  as  to  the  relation  between  these  parties.  The 
White  Hawk  knew,  without  being  told,  that  Harrod  loved 
Inez  as  his  very  life.  When  the  two  girls  were  alone,  she 
never  hesitated  to  tell  Inez  so ;  and  she  never  hesitated  to 
add  that  it  would  be  strange  indeed,  seeing  what  manner  of 
girl  her  own  Inez  was,  if  he  did  not  love  her  as  his  very  life. 
Nay,  there  were  times  when,  with  such  language  as  the  girls 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  199 

had,  this  waif  from  the  forest  would  venture  the  question  to 
which  she  never  got  any  answer,  —  whether  Ii  ez  did  not  have 
the  least  little  bit  of  thought  of  him,  though  his  back  were 
turned  and  he  far  away. 

The  reader  now  knows  more  than  William  Harrod  knew  of 
the  state  of  his  own  affairs,  on  the  afternoon  when  he  made  his 
last  good-bys  to  the  two  ladies,  and,  with  King  and  Richards 
and  Adams,  turned  back  to  join  the  captain  on  the  expedi 
tion  from  which  they  had  been  now  for  more  than  a  fortnight 
parted.  Of  these  men,  Harrod  had  learned  early  to  distrust 
Richards.  He  seemed  to  him  to  be  himself  distrustful, 
morose,  and  sulky  without  cause ;  and  Harrod  did  not  believe 
him  to  be  a  true  man.  Of  the  others  he  had  formed  no 
judgment,  for  better  or  worse,  except  that  they  were  like  the 
average  of  Western  adventurers,  glad  to  spend  a  winter  on 
ground  which  they  had  never  seen  before.  He  had  been  a 
little  surprised  that  all  of  them  had  assented,  without  ques 
tion  or  murmur,  to  so  long  a  separation  from  the  main  party 
of  hunters. 

He  was  more  surprised,  that,  now  this  separation  was  so 
near  an  end,  none  of  the  men  showed  any  interest  in  the 
prospect  of  reunion.  They  rode  on,  for  the  four  days'  forced 
march  which  brought  them  back  to  that  famous  camp  where 
Inez  had  lost  herself,  —  a  party  ill  at  ease.  Whenever  Harrod 
tried  to  lead  the  conversation  to  the  business  of  the  winter, 
it  flagged.  The  men  dropped  that  subject  as  if  it  were  a  hot 
coal.  For  himself,  poor  Harrod  gladly  turned  back  in  his 
own  thoughts  to  every  word  that  had  been  spoken,  to  every 
look  that  had  been  looked,  as  he  and  she  rode  over  this  road 
before.  If  the  men  did  not  want  to  talk  about  mustangs  and 
corrals,  he  certainly  did  not.  And  so,  as  they  brought  down 
five  days  of  ordinary  travel  so  as  to  compass  them  in  little 
more  than  three,  it  was  but  a  silent  journey. 

Of  such  silence,  the  mystery  appeared,  when  they  had 
discussed  the  jerked  venison  of  their  noonday  meal  at  camp 
at  the  same  point  as  that  where  Eunice  watched  and  wept. 


200  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

To  go  to  Nolan's  rendezvous  from  this  point,  they  wouli* 
have  to  follow  up  the  valley  of  the  Brassos  River,  known  to 
the  Indians  as  the  Tockanhono.  The  trail  would  not  be  as 
easy  as  the  old  San  Antonio  road  which  they  had  been  follow 
ing,  nor  could  they  expect  to  make  as  rapid  progress  upon  it. 
But,  at  the  outside,  Nolan  was  not  two  hundred  miles  above 
them,  perhaps  not  one  hundred  miles.  With  the  horses  they 
had  under  them,  this  distance  would  be  soon  achieved. 

As  the  men  washed  down  the  venison  with  the  last  drop  of 
the  day's  ration  of  whiskey,  Harrod  gave  his  commands  for 
the  evening,  in  that  interrogative  or  suggestive  form  in  which 
a  wise  offcer  commands  free  and  independent  hunters. 

"  Had  we  not  better  hold  on  here  till  daybreak  ? "  he  said. 
"  That  will  give  the  horses  a  better  chance  at  this  feed.  We 
will  start  as  soon  as  we  can  see  our  hands  in  the  morning  ; 
and  by  night  we  shall  have  made  as  much  as  if  we  had  started 
now." 

None  of  the  men  said  a  word  —  a  little  to  Harrod's  sur 
prise,  though  he  was  used  to  their  sulkiness. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  if  you  want  to  play  cards,  you  must  play 
by  yourselves  this  evening.  I  shall  take  a  nap  now,  and 
then  I  have  my  journal  to  write  up ;  and  Mr.  Nolan  wants 
me  to  take  the  latitude  here  as  soon  as  the  stars  are  up.  So 
good  luck  to  you  all." 

Upon  this,  King  —  who  was  perhaps  the  most  easy  speaker 
of  the  party  —  screwed  himself  up,  or  was  put  up  by  the 
others,  to  say,  — 

"  Cap'n,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  we's  going  home. 
There  won't  be  no  horses  cotched  up  yonder  this  year.  Them 
blasted  Greasers  is  too  many  for  Cap'n  Nolan  or  for  you  ; 
and  we  sha'n't  get  into  that  trap.  We  uns  is  going  home  ; 
'n,  if  you's  wise,  you  goes  too." 

Harrod  stared  at  first,  without  speaking.  This  was  the 
mystery  of  all  this  sulky  silence,  was  it  ?  And  this  Mordecai 
Richards  was  at  the  bottom  of  it !  Harrod  was  too  angry  to 
speak  for  a  moment  Before  he  did  speak,  he  had  mastered 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  201 

that  first  wish  to  give  the  man  a  black  eye,  or  to  choke  him 
for  a  few  minutes,  as  fit  recompense  for  such  treachery.  He 
did  master  it,  and  succeeded  in  pretending  this  was  a  half- 
jo):e,  and  in  trying  persuasion. 

They  battled  it  for  half  an  hour.  Harrod  coaxed,  he 
shamed,  he  threatened  ;  and,  at  the  end,  he  saw  the  traitors 
saddle  and  pack  their  horses,  and  they  rode  off  without  a 
word  of  good-by,  leaving  Harrod  alone,  as  he  had  left  Eunice 
Perry  on  that  spot,  only  that  Harrod  had  no  loyal  Ransom. 

"  There  is  no  use  crying  for  spilled  milk,"  he  said,  as  if  it 
were  a  comfort  to  him  to  speak  one  clean  and  strong  word 
after  paddling  in  the  ditch  of  those  men's  lies  and  cowardice. 
"  Half  an  hour  of  a  good  siesta  lost  in  coaxing  cowards  and 
convicting  liars !  " 

And  on  this  the  good  fellow  threw  himself  on  the  ground 
again,  drew  a  buffalo-robe  over  his  feet  and  knees,  adjusted 
his  head  to  his  mind  on  a  perch  which  he  took  from  his 
saddle,  and  in  ten  seconds  was  asleep ;  so  resolute  was  his 
own  self-command,  and  so  meekly  did  wayward  thought, 
even  when  most  rampant,  obey  him  when  he  gave  the  order. 
He  slept  his  appointed  hour.  He  woke,  and  indulged  him 
self  in  pleasant  memories.  He  went  down  to  the  bayou. 
The  moccason-tracks  of  Inez's  little  foot  were  not  yet  all 
erased.  He  crept  out  upon  the  log  of  cottonwood ;  he 
peeped  through  the  opening  in  the  underbrush.  He  came 
back  to  the  false  trail  which  she  had  followed.  He  worked 
along  in  the  effort  to  reproduce  her  wanderings.  As  night 
closed  in,  he  tried  to  fancy  that  he  was  where  the  girl  was  \ 
and  he  paced  up  and  down  fifty  times,  as  he  indulged  himself 
in  the  memory  of  her  courage.  Then  he  came  up  to  his 
post,  took  the  altitude  of  the  North  Star,  and  of  Algol  and 
Deneb,  as  the  captain  had  bidden  him.  By  the  light  of  his 
camp-fire  he  made  an  entry  in  his  journal  longer  than  usual. 
Let  it  be  not  written  here  whether  there  were  there,  or  were 
not,  a  few  halting  verses,  between  the  altitude  of  Mizar  and 
that  of  Deneb. 


202  PHILIP  NOLANS  FRIENDS  ; 

Before  ten  o'clock  the  fire  was  burning  lew,  anc  the  fear 
less  commander  was  dreaming  of  Inez  and  of  home. 

But  it  is  not  every  night  that  passes  so  smoothly  for  him  ; 
and  it  is  not  every  evening  that  he  can  write  verses  or  enter 
altitudes  so  serenely. 

The  next  day,  with  no  guide,  —  and,  indeed,  needing  none 
but  the  indications  of  an  Indian  trail,  —  the  brave  fellow 
worked  his  way  prosperously  toward  his  chief  ;  and  at  night, 
after  he  had  taken  his  altitudes,  and  written  up  his  journal, 
he  lay  by  his  camp-fire  again,  with  the  well-pleased  hope  that 
two  or  three  more  such  days  might  bring  him  to  the  captain. 
At  the  outside,  five  would  be  enough,  unless  all  plans  were 
changed.  On  such  thoughts  he  slept. 

He  woke  to  find  his  hands  tightly  held,  —  to  hear  the 
grunts  and  commands  of  two  stout  Comanches  who  held 
him,  —  to  struggle  to  his  feet  between  them,  with  daylight 
enough  to  see  that  he  was  in  the  power  of  a  dozen  of  them. 
His  packs  were  already  open,  and  were  surrounded  by  the 
hungry  and  thirsty  cormorants.  One  was  draining  his 
whiskey-flask.  Two  or  three  were  trying  experiments  with 
his  sextant.  The  chief  of  the  party  had  already  appropri 
ated  his  rifle  ;  and  as  Harrod  turned  to  look  for  the  precious 
pack,  on  which  his  head  had  rested,  he  saw  that  that  also 
was  in  the  hands  of  the  savages,  and  that  one  of  them  was 
already  fighting  with  another  on  the  questions  which  should 
be  possessor  of  a  cigar-case,  and  which  should  be  satisfied 
with  the  diary. 

This  misfortune  of  the  young  Kentuckian  will  explain  to 
the  reader  what  was  a  mystery  to  Philip  Nolan  when  he 
wrote  the  letter  which  we  have  read,  —  why  Harrod  and  the 
rest  had  not  rejoined  him  within  a  fortnight,  more  or  less, 
after  he  had  received  their  letters  by  Blackburn. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  203 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   WARNING. 

"  Before  the  clerk  must  bend 

Full  many  a  warrior  grim, 
And  to  the  corner  wend, 
Although  it  please  not  him." 

HEINRICH  KNAOST. 

PHILIP  NOLAN'S  letter  to  Eunice  had  not  reached  her  on 
that  morning  in  March  when  ?4a-ry  had  sent  away  the  joint 
letter  to  him,  of  whose  fate  the  reader  has  been  apprised. 
He  had  no  prizes  to  offer  to  the  Carankawa  squaw  to  whom 
he  intrusted  it ;  and  her  occasions  of  travel  were  so  varied, 
and  her  encampments  were  so  long,  that  it  was  many  months 
before  Eunice  Perry  received  it. 

She  was  one  of  the  Indios  reJucidos,  —  that  is,  the  Indians 
who  could  make  the  sign  of  the  cross,  —  and  not  one  of  the 
Tndios  bravos,  who  were  redskins  without  that  accomplish 
ment.  But  her  "  reduction  "  had  not  yet  brought  her  to  that 
more  difficult  stage  of  religion  in  which  people  tell  the  truth, 
or  do  what  they  promise  to  do. 

Meanwhile  the  winter  wore  away,  —  not  unpleasantly  to 
the  young  leader  and  his  party.  He  had  characterized  them 
fitly  enough  in  that  letter.  They  could  fight  over  their  cards 
as  hotly  as  they  would  have  fought  for  a  king's  crown  ;  and 
the  next  day,  in  the  wild  adventures  of  the  chase,  the  man 
who  had,  the  last  night,  sworn  deadly  vengeance  because  a 
two  of  clubs  was  not  an  ace,  would  risk  his  life  freely  to  save 


204  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

the  man  whom  he  had  then  threatened.  The  moon  of  cold 
meat,  as  the  Indians  call  the  tenth  month  from  March,  crept 
by;  and  through  the  month  the  young  hunters  had  no  lack  of 
hot  supplies  every  night.  The  moon  of  chestnuts  followed  ; 
and  they  were  not  reduced  to  roasted  chestnuts.  The  moon 
of  walnuts  followed  ;  and  they  had  walnuts  enough,  but  they 
had  much  more.  They  hunted  well,  they  slept  well,  they 
woke  with  the  sun.  They  hardly  tired  of  this  life  of  adven 
ture  ;  but  they  were  all  in  readiness,  so  soon  as  the  spring 
flood  should  a  little  subside,  to  take  up  their  line  of  march 
with  their  frisky  wealth  to  Natchitoches  and  Orleans. 

All  fears  of  the  Spanish  outposts  had  long  since  died  away. 
The  only  question  which  ever  amazed  the  camp  was  the  ques 
tion  which  the  last  chapter  solved  for  the  reader,  —  what  had 
become  of  Harrod  and  of  his  companions  ?  There  was  not  a 
man  of  them  who  really  liked  Richards  ;  but  they  knew  noth 
ing  to  make  them  distrust  King  and  Adams ;  and  of  course 
every  man  knew  that  William  Harrod  was  another  Philip 
Nolan. 

Things  were  in  this  pass,  when,  as  they  returned  from  the 
day's  hunting  to  the  corral  one  afternoon,  they  found  sitting 
by  the  cooks,  the  home-guard,  and  the  camp-fire,  the  five 
Indians  of  whom  Crooked  Feather  was  the  spokesman, 
whom  the  reader  saw  last  when  they  left  the  Guadaloupe 
River  five  days  before,  with  such  benediction  as  the  Francis 
can  fathers  had  given  them. 

Crooked  Feather  rose  at  once,  laid  aside  his  pipe,  and  pre 
sented  to  Nolan  a  little  silver-mounted  hunting-whip,  with  an 
address  which  Nolan  scarcely  understood.  The  man  spoke 
rapidly,  and  with  much  excitement. 

Nolan  controlled  him  a  little,  by  praising  him  and  the 
whip,  and  giving  his  hand  freely  to  every  member  of  the  red 
party,  and  then  persuaded  Crooked  Feather  to  begin  again. 
He  asked  him  to  speak  slowly,  explaining  that,  while  his  heart 
was  right  to  the  Twowokanies,  his  ears  were  somewhat  deal 
when  he  heard  their  language. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  205 

Crooked  Feather  began  again,  and  this  time  with  gesture 
enough  to  make  clear  his  words.  Nolan  immediately  called 
Blackburn  ;  and  by  an  easy  movement  he  led  the  Indian  away 
from  the  other  men,  who  were  already  hobnobbing  with  the 
redskins  of  lesser  rank  or  lesser  volubility. 

"  Blackburn,  see  and  hear  what  he  says.  He  gives  me 
this  riding-switch  from  old  Ransom.  Ransom  is  no  fool,  as 
you  know,  Blackburn ;  and  this  means  simply  that  he  thinks 
we  should  be  going,  and  going  quickly.  The  man  left  An 
tonio  only  on  Tuesday;  he  saw  the  ladies  Monday  ;  and  early 
Tuesday  morning  Ransom  came  with  that  girl  they  call  the 
White  Hawk,  bade  him  bring  me  this  whip,  and  promised 
him  no  end  of  plunder  if  he  returned  in  twelve  days.  Now, 
they  had  some  reason  for  sending  the  redskins." 

"  They  have  sent  something  besides  the  whip,"  said  Black 
burn  ;  and  he  turned  to  the  impassive  Crooked  Feather,  and 
with  equal  impassivity  said  to  him,  "  Give  me  what  else  the 
young  squaw  sent  to  you." 

Then  for  the  first  time,  and  as  if  he  had  forgotten  it,  or  as 
if  it  were  a  trifle  among  braves,  the  Crooked  Feather  crossed 
to  his  packs,  loosened  and  brought  to  the  others  the  parcel 
of  skins,  dusty  and  defaced  by  the  journey. 

"  Crooked  Feather  brought  these  skins  also.  There  are 
six  skins,  which  the  white  squaw,  whom  the  white-head 
father  took  from  the  Apaches,  sends  to  the  chief  of  the  long- 
knives." 

"  You  lie  ! "  said  Blackburn,  as  impassive  as  before,  and 
with  as  little  sign  of  displeasure.  "  There  are  but  five  skins. 
The  Crooked  Feather  has  stolen  one." 

"  There  are  six  skins,"  said  the  savage,  holding  up  one 
hand,  and  one  finger  of  the  other  ;  and  he  explained  that  he 
had  himself  opened  the  parcel,  counted  the  skins,  and  folded 
them  again.  He  showed  his  own  memorandum, —  an  open 
hand  in  red,  and  a  red  finger,  —  on  the  other  side  of  the 
outer  skin. 

Even  the  impassive  face  of  an  Indian  gave  way  to  a  sur 


eo6  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

prise  which  could  hardly  be  feigned  when  he  also  counted 
the  skins,  and  there  were  but  five. 

"  Perhaps  he  is  lying,  Blackburn ;  but  I  think  not.  Do 
not  let  the  other  boys  hear  you,  but  go  and  talk  with  the 
other  redskins,  and  find  out  what  you  can.  I  will  play  with 
him  here.  You  see,  Ransom  never  sent  that  bale  of  skins 
all  the  way  here  with  nothing  in  it.  Bring  me  our  long  pipe 
first." 

Blackburn  brought  the  pipe,  lighted.  Nolan  spread  one  of 
the  skins,  and  invited  Crooked  Feather  to  sit  on  it.  He  sat 
on  another  himself.  He  threw  one  on  his  knees.  He  threw 
another  on  the  Feather's  knees.  He  drew  a  few  whiffs  of 
smoke,  and  gave  the  pipe  to  the  other.  They  renewed  this 
ceremony  three  or  four  times.  Then  Nolan  opened  his  pri 
vate  flask  of  whiskey,  and  drank  from  it.  He  offered  it  to  the 
other,  who  did  the  same,  not  with  the  same  moderation  which 
his  host  had  shown.  After  these  ceremonies,  the  white  man 
said  gravely,  without  even  looking  the  other  in  the  face,  — 

"The  white  squaw  and  the  gray-haired  chief  gave  to  my 
brother  another  token.  I  am  ready  to  receive  that  from  the 
Crooked  Feather." 

The  Crooked  Feather,  who  had  till  this  moment  conceived 
the  hope  that  he  might  retain  the  little  prayer-book  for  a 
medicine  and  benediction  for  himself  and  his  line  forever, 
gave  way  at  the  moment,  took  it  from  his  pouch,  and  gave  it 
to  Nolan. 

"The  chief  of  the  long-knives  says  well.  The  old  chief 
and  the  white  squaw  gave  me  this  medicine  for  the  chief  of 
the  long-knives." 

Nolan  cut,  only  too  eagerly,  the  thongs  which  bound  the 
missal-book,  and  opened  it.  He  wholly  concealed  his  sur 
prise  when  he  saw  what  it  was.  Rapidly  he  turned  every 
page  to  make  sure  that  no  note  was  concealed  within  them. 
He  placed  it  in  his  own  pouch,  drew  three  more  whiffs  from 
the  pipe,  and  waited  till  the  Crooked  Feather  did  the  same. 
He  pretended  to  drink  from  the  flask  again ;  and  the  Feathei 
did  so,  without  pretence  or  disguise. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  207 

Nolan  then  said, — 

"  The  white  squaw  and  the  white  chief  gave  my  I  rothei 
another  medicine.  They  gave  him  a  white  medicine,  like 
the  bark  of  a  canoe-birch  folded." 

He  looked,  as  he  spoke,  at  a  distant  tree,  as  though  there 
were  no  Crooked  Feather  in  the  world. 

Crooked  Eeather,  looking  also  across  at  the  camp-fire,  as 
though  there  were  no  Nolan  in  the  world,  said,  — 

"  The  chief  of  the  long-knives  lies.  I  have  given  to  him 
all  the  tokens  and  all  the  medicines  which  the  white  squaw 
gave  me,  or  the  white-haired  white  chief.  Let  the  chief  of 
the  long-knives  give  his  token  to  the  Crooked  Feather.  The 
Crooked  Feather  will  give  it  to  the  white  squaw  before  seven 
suns  have  set.  The  white  squaw  will  give  the  Crooked 
Feather  more  sugar  than  a  bear  can  eat  in  a  day." 

This  dream  of  heaven  was  put  in  words  without  a  gesture 
or  a  smile. 

"  It  is  well,"  said  Nolan  quietly.  "  Let  us  come  to  the 
camp-fire.  The  Crooked  Feather  has  ridden  far  to-day.  My 
young  men  have  turkey-meat  and  deer-meat  waiting  for  him." 

They  parted  at  the  fire,  and  in  a  moment  more  Nolan  was 
in  consultation  with  B  ackburn. 

Blackburn  told  him  what  he  had  drawn  from  the  others 
without  difficulty.  They  had  confirmed  all  that  the  Crooked 
Feather  had  said.  They  had  added  what  he  would  have 
added  had  he  been  asked  the  history  of  their  march.  In  the 
nrst  place,  they  knew  nothing  of  Harrod  or  of  the  other  lost 
men.  They  had  not  long  been  camping  by  Antonio,  nor  had 
they  any  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  such  a  party  as  his. 
In  the  second  place,  they  had  carefully  described  Miss 
Eunice,  Miss  Inez,  the  White  Hawk,  and  Kansom,  with  pre 
cision  of  details  such  as  none  but  Indians  would  be  capable 
of.  There  could  be  no  doubt,  in  the  mind  of  either  Nolan  or 
Blackburn,  that  on  the  very  last  Tuesday  they  had  left  their 
camp  by  the  river,  and  had  started  with  the  parcel  of  furs, 
the  packet,  and  the  riding-whip.  That  the  parcel  contained 


208  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

six  skins  when  they  started,  Blackburn  was  sure.  The  men 
all  said  so.  They  had  opened  it,  and  counted  them.  Nor 
did  they  even  now  know  that  its  tale  was  not  full.  Black 
burn  was  sure,  that,  if  Crooked  Feather  had  tampered  with  it, 
they  had  not.  Nolan  was  equally  sure  that  the  chief  had 
not.  He  had,  indeed,  no  motive  to  do  so.  His  only  object 
must  be  to  discharge  his  mission  thoroughly,  if  he  discharged 
it  at  all.  Had  he  wanted  to  steal  a  wretched  antelope-skin, 
why,  he  would  ha^e  stolen  the  whole  pack. 

Blackburn  thought  he  gave  more  light  when  he  told  his 
chief  the  story  of  the  encampment  by  the  Guadaloupe  River ; 
and  here  Nolan  was  at  one  with  him.  If  a  Franciscan 
father  plied  them  all  with  brandy,  he  had  his  reasons.  If 
he  plied  them  with  brandy,  they  all  slept  soundly,  and  kept 
no  watch  that  night.  If  he  were  curious  about  their  enter 
prise,  he  would  inform  himself  of  it 

"  Blackburn,  on  the  other  skin  there  was  a  picture-writing 
which  told  us  just  what  we  want  to  know." 

"  That's  what  I  say  too,"  said  Blackburn  promptly. 

"  Blackburn,  in  this  parcel,  with  this  little  prayer-book, 
was  a  note  which  told  us  just  what  we  want  to  know." 

"  That's  what  I  say." 

"  And  that  fellow  with  a  long  brown  nightgown,  tied  up 
with  a  halter  round  his  waist,  has  got  it." 

So  saying,  Nolan  for  the  last  time  turned  over  the  book 
of  hours,  and  Blackburn  turned  to  leave  his  pensive  chief. 

"  Halloo  !     Blackburn,  come  back !  " 

And  Nolan  led  him  to  a  secluded  shelter,  where  they 
were  out  of  ear-shot  or  eye-shot. 

"  See  here,  and  here,  and  here,  and  here  ;  "  and  he  pointed 
one  by  one  to  the  four  ornamented  pages  of  the  prayer-book. 

"  Miss  Perry  was  as  much  afraid  of  these  nightgown  men 
as  I  am.  She  has  sent  her  message  in  writing  they  do  not 
learn  at  Rome." 

Sure  enough :  in  miniature  work  quite  as  elegant  as  many 
a  priest  has  wrought  in,  Eunice  had  substituted  for  the 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  209 

original  illustrations  of  the  book  a  series  on  vellum  which 
much  better  answered  her  present  purpose.  The  pictures 
were  all  Bible  pictures  ;  and  the  figures  were  drawn  in  the 
quaint  style  of  the  original.  But  every  scene  was  a  scene 
of  parting,  and  illustrated  the  beginning  of  a  retreat. 

Here  was  Abraham  going  up  out  of  Egypt,  very  rich  in 
cattle.  Strange  to  say,  the  cattle  were  all  horses,  and  in 
Abraham's  turban  was  a  long  cardinal  feather.  "  Do  you 
remember,  Blackburn,  the  feather  I  wore  the  day  I  bade  the 
ladies  g:od-by  ?" 

Then  here  was  Lot  and  his  troop  turning  their  backs  on 
the  plain.  Once  more  the  preponderance  of  horses  was 
remarkable  ;  and  once  more  a  brilliant  red  feathtT  waved  in 
Lot's  helmet. 

Blackburn  began  to  be  interested.  The  next  picture  was 
of  Gideon  crossing  the  Jordan  in  his  retreat.  There  were 
spoils  of  the  Midianites,  and  especially  horses  ;  and  in 
Gideon's  head  waved  still  the  red  feather. 

By  and  by  Ezra  appeared,  leading  the  Israelites  over  the 
Euphrates.  Horses  again  outnumbered  all  the  cattle,  and 
Ezra  again  wore  a  red  feather  ;  but  the  chief  next  to  Ezra, 
just  of  his  height  and  figure,  wore  a  crest  of  fur. 

"  See  there,  Blackburn  !  She  thinks  Harrod  is  here  f 
That  is  his  squirrel-tail." 

They  turned  on,  but  there  were  no  more  pictures.  Both 
men  looked  back  upon  these  four;  and  it  was  then  that 
Nolan's  eye  caught  the  figures  in  black-letter  at  the  bottom 

of  the  first,  — 

.  it'i.  31,32;  Seut.  tt.  d. 


"  Halloo,  Blackburn  !  what  is  this?  "  cried  he.  "  There  is 
nothing  about  Abraham  in  Deuteronomy,  nor  in  Exodus 
either." 

In  a  moment  Blackburn  had  brought  to  his  chief,  from  a 
little  box  at  the  head  of  his  sleeping-bunk,  the  Bible  which 
accompanied  him  in  his  journeys.  A  moment  more  had 
found  the  warning  texts,  — 


<io  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

"  Rise  up,  and  get  you  forth  from  among  my  people,  both  ye  and  the 
children  of  Israel ;  and  go,  serve  the  Lord  as  ye  have  said. 

"  Also  take  your  flocks  and  your  herds,  as  ye  have  said,  and  be  gone  ; 
and  bless  me  also." 

"  And  the  Lord  said  unto  me,  Distress  not  the  Moabites,  neither  con 
tend  with  them  in  battle  ;  for  I  will  not  give  thee  of  their  land  for  a  pos 
session." 

Nolan  read  aloud  to  Blackburn ;  and  then,  as  he  looked 
for  more  messages,  he  said,  — 

"  It  is  all  of  a  piece  with  old  Ransom's  token.  They 
think'  the  country  is  too  hot  for  us,  and  they  mean  to  put  us 
on  our  guard.  See,  Blackburn,  what  comes  next." 

Under  Lot  and  his  party  were  the  letters,  — 

3o»fj.  fa.  1,  2. 

"  Lucky  the  Franciscan  blackleg  did  not  know  Lot  was  not 
cousin  of  Joshua,"  growled  Nolan. 
He  turned  up  the  text  to  read,  — 

"  And  it  came  to  pass  when  all  the  kings  which  were  on  this  side  Jor 
dan,  in  the  hills,  and  in  the  valleys,  .  .  .  heard  thereof  ; 

"That  they  gathered  themselves  together,  to  fight  with  Joshua  and  with 
Israel,  with  one  accord." 

Under  the  next  pictures  were  the  letters,  — 

3uBg.  ri.  17. 
And  the  interpretation  proved  to  be,  — 

"  Then  Israel  sent  messengers  unto  the  king  of  Edom,  saying,  Let  roe, 
I  pray  thee,  pass  through  thy  land  ;  but  the  king  of  Edom  would  not 
hearken  thereto." 

"This  is  plain  talk,  Blackburn,"  said  the  chief  after  a 
moment's  pause. 

"  Yes,  captain  ;  and  do  you  see  ? "  — 

The  man  took  the  book  carefully  from  his  chief,  and 
showed  him,  far  in  the  distance  of  each  picture  of  the  four, 
a  three-domed  cathedral  with  three  crosses. 


OK,    "  SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  211 

"  Them's  the  crosses  of  Chihuahua ;  I've  heard  on  'em 
hundreds  of  times.  Has  not  thee,  captain  ?  " 

"  Heard  of  them !  I  have  seen  them.  You  are  right, 
Blackburn.  It  is  from  Chihuahua  that  our  enemy  is  coming, 
and  from  Chihuahua  that  we  must  look  for  him.  Now  what 
is  this  ?  " 

And  he  turned  once  more  to  the  picture  of  Ezra  with  his 
cardinal.  The  warning  texts  were,  — 

lEjra  bin.  10 ;  !Exo&.  tb.  8. 

"  And  of  the  sons  of  Shelomith  ;  the  son  of  Josiphiah,  and  with  him 
an  hundred  and  threescore  males." 

"  I  do  not  care  what  his  name  is,  Blackburn ;  but,  if  he  has 
a  hundred  and  sixty  Spanish  lancers  of  the  male  sort  after 
him,  they  are  too  many  for  us.  What  is  her  other  text  ? " 

"And  it  shall  come  to  pass,  if  they  will  not  believe  thee,  neither 
hearken  to  the  voice  of  the  first  sign,  that  they  will  believe  the  voice  of 
the  latter  sign." 

"  I  should  think  so,"  said  Nolan  sadly  or  dully,  as  Black 
burn  might  choose  to  think.  "  I  should  think  so,  unless  they 
wanted  to  be  marched,  every  man  of  them,  into  the  mines  at 
New  Mexico. 

"  Blackburn,  an  hour  after  sunrise  to-morrow  we  will  be 
gone." 

"  I  say  so  too,"  replied  the  subordinate,  by  no  means  ill 
pleased. 

"  Get  the  redskins  well  off  to-night.  We  will  say  nothing 
to  the  boys  till  they  are  well  gone." 

Accordingly  a  grand  farewell  feast  was  improvised  for 
Crooked  Feather.  The  very  scanty  stores  of  whiskey  which 
were  left  in  the  hunters'  provisions  were  largely  drawn  upon. 
A  pipe  of  peace  was  smoked ;  and  Crooked  Feather  and  his 
men  were  started  on  their  return  with  haste  which  might  have 
have  seemed  suspicious,  had  they  been  more  sober. 


212  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Perhaps  it  seemed  suspicious  as  it  was. 

Crooked  Feather  bore  with  him  the  "  medicine-paper " 
which  he  coveted,  the  display  of  which  to  White  Hawk,  to 
the  white-haired  chief,  or  to  the  white  lady,  to  either  or  to 
all,  would  produce  the  much-coveted  and  well-earned  su^ar. 


OR    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  213 


CHAPTER  XX 

A  TERTULIA. 

"  Come  to  ova  fete,  and  bring  with  thce 
Thy  newest,  best  embroidery ; 
Bring  thy  best  lace,  and  bring  thy  rings : 
Bring,  child,  in  short,  thy  prettiest  things." 
*  After  MOORE. 

CROOKED  FEATHER  was  not  false  to  his  promise ;  and  on 
this  occasion  he  met  neither  medicine-man  nor  ghostly  father 
to  hinder  him  on  his  way.  On  the  thirteenth  day  from  that 
on  which  he  started,  he  came  in  sight  of  the  crosses  of  An 
tonio.  He  found  his  own  party  encamped  not  far  distant 
from  the  place  where  he  had  left  them.  No  sign  of  surprise 
or  affection  greeted  the  return  of  the  party.  They  swung 
themselves  sullenly  from  their  horses,  and  gave  them  to  the 
care  of  the  women.  Crooked  Feather  satisfied  himself  that 
neither  of  the  three  whites  who  were  authorized  to  receive 
his  token  had  come  out  to  meet  him.  He  was  too  taciturn 
and  too  proud  to  confess  his  disappointment,  —  for  disap 
pointment  he  really  felt.  He  solaced  himself  by  devouring 
a  bit  of  the  mesquit,  —  a  rabbit  which  he  tore  limb  from  limb 
with  his  fingers.  He  then  bade  his  wife  bring  out  another 
horse ;  and,  without  his  companions  this  time,  he  rode  into 
the  Presidio  with  his  token. 

He  gave  a  wide  berth  to  every  man  who  wore  a  black  coat 
or  cassock.  His  memories  of  the  headache  which  followed 
his  last  debauch  were  too  fresh,  and  the  shame  he  felt  at 


214  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS: 

being  outwitted  by  the  scalped  fathers  was  too  great,  for  him 
to  trust  himself  to  such  guides  again. 

Lounging  in  part  of  Major  Barelo's  quarters,  he  found  old 
Ransom. 

"  Back  agen,  be  ye  ? "  said  the  old  man  with  undisguised 
surprise.  ''Come  into  the  yard  with  me.  Yarg!  Go  ask  the 
Senora  Perry  if  she  will  have  the  kindness  to  come  down." 

The  savage  swung  himself  from  his  beast ;  and  Ransom 
bade  an  attendant  idler  secure  him,  while  he  led  Crooked 
Feather  into  the  more  private  courtyard.  In  a  minute  Eunice 
appeared.  The  two  girls  were  not  with  her. 

No  interpreter  was  needed,  however.  The  savage  was  too 
eager  to  be  well  done  with  his  disagreeable  expedition.  In  a 
moment  he  produced  the  tobacco-pouch  which  Nolan  had 
given  him.  In  a  moment  more  Ransom  had  found  the 
secret  of  its  fastening,  and  had  opened  it.  In  a  moment 
more  Eunice  had  torn  open  the  letter,  and  had  read  it. 

PHILIP  NOLAN  TO  EUNICE  PERRY. 

MARCH  21. 

Thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  your  warning.  Fortunately  you  are 
in  time.  A  rascally  priest  stole  your  letter,  and  whatever  was  on  an  ante 
lope-skin.  But  I  have  the  prayer-book,  and  I  have  Ransom's  whip. 
Thank  the  old  fellow  for  us.  We  are  off  before  daylight ;  and  I  send  this 
red-skin  off  now,  that  he  may  not  see  our  trail.  Good-by,  and  God  bless 
you  all ! 

P.  N. 

"  God  be  praised,  indeed  !  "  said  Eunice,  as  she  read  the 
letter  a  second  time,  this  time  reading  aloud  to  Ransom,  but 
in  her  lowest  tones,  that  not  even  the  walls  might  hear. 
"  God  be  praised !  This  is  good  news  indeed.  See  the 
•man  has  his  sugar,  Ransom  ; "  and  then  she  turned,  gave  her 
ftand  to  the  savage,  smiled,  and  thanked  him.  With  a  mo- 
•ment  more  she  was  in  her  own  room,  and  had  summoned  the 
;two  girls  to  share  her  delight  and  triumph. 

The  letter  was  read  to  Inez,  and  it  was  translated  to  the 
"White  Hawk.  Then  Inez  took  it,  and  read  it  herself,  and 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  215 

turned  it  most  carefully  over.  It  was  only  after  a  pause  that 
she  said,  "  Are  you  sure  there  was  no  other  letter,  that  there 
was  nothing  more  ? "  And  then  Eunice  wondered  too,  and 
sent  to  recall  Ransom.  There  might  have  been  something 
else  in  the  tobacco-pouch. 

No !  there  was  nothing  more  in  the  tobacco-pouch.  Inez 
even  clipped  out  the  lining  of  it  with  her  scissors.  There 
was  nothing  more  there ;  there  had  been  nothing  more 
there. 

None  the  less  was  Inez  resolved  that  she  would  ride  out 
with  the  White  Hawk  the  next  morning,  and  have  an  inter 
view  with  the  Crooked  Feather.  The  Crooked  Feather 
could,  at  the  least,  tell  whom  he  had  found  at  the  encamp 
ment. 

And  then  the  three  ladies  began  their  preparations  for  the 
tertulia  of  the  evening,  with  more  animation  and  joyfulness 
than  they  had  felt  for  many,  many  days. 

"  What  in  the  world  shall  I  say  to  your  horrible  Mr.  Lons- 
dale,  aunt,  if  he  should  take  it  into  his  grave  old  island  head 
to  ask  me  what  makes  me  so  happy  ?  " 

"  What,  indeed  ? "  said  Eunice.  "  We  must  not  tell  him 
any  lies.  You  must  change  the  subject  bravely.  You  must 
ask  him  what  are  the  favorite  dances  in  London." 

"  Eunice,  I  will  ask  him  if  his  old  Queen  Charlotte  dances 
the  bolero.  I  will.  I  should  like  to  show  him  that  I  know 
him  perfectly  well,  and  through  and  through." 

"  I  wish  I  did,"  said  Eunice,  stopping  in  her  toilet,  and 
looking  at  Inez  almost  anxiously. 

"  Wish  you  did?  Then  I  will  tell  you  in  one  minute.  He 
is  a  hateful  old  spy  of  a  hateful  old  king.  And  what  he  is 
here  for,  I  do  not  see.  What  was  the  use  of  our  beating  the 
redcoats  and  Hessians  all  out  of  our  country,  if,  after  it  is 
all  over,  we  are  to  have  these  spies  coming  back  to  look 
round  and  see  if  they  have  not  forgotten  something  ? " 

"  Don't  talk  too  loud,  pussy,"  said  her  aunt,  taking  up  the 
comb  again.  "  What  would  Gen.  Herrara  say  if  he  heard 


2l6  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIEXDS  ; 

you  call  this  your  country,  and  if  you  told  him  you  thought 
he  ought  to  turn  all  travelling  Englishmen  out  of  it  ? " 

"  Travelling  fiddlesticks !  "  cried  the  impetuous  girl.  "  Do 
you  tell  me  that  an  English  gentleman,  like  dear  Sir  Charles 
Grandison,  who  was  a  gentleman,  has  nothing  better  to  do 
than  to  cross  the  ocean  and  come  all  the  way  up  to  this 
corner  of  the  world  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  Seriora  Valois, 
and  to  dance  a  minuet  with  me  ? " 

"  He  might  be  worse  employed,  I  think,"  said  Aunt  Eunice, 
catching  and  kissing  the  impetuous  girl,  whose  cheeks  glowed 
as  her  eyes  blazed  with  her  excitement ;  "  and  I  believe  dear 
Sir  Charles's  grandson  would  say  so  too,  if  he  were  here. 
Come,  come,  come  !  Mary  is  wondering  what  you  are  storm 
ing  about,  and  all  your  pantomime  will  never  explain  to  her. 
Come,  come,  come !  How  nice  it  is  to  be  able  to  go  to  a 
party  without  setting  foot  out  of  doors !  " 

It  was  indeed  true,  that,  by  one  of  the  corridor  or  cloister 
arrangements  which  gave  a  certain  Moorish  aspect  to  the 
little  military  station,  there  was  a  passage,  quite  "  practica 
ble,"  through  which,  without  putting  foot  to  the  earth,  the 
three  ladies  passed  to  the  saloons  of  Madame  de  Valois, 
where  the  brilliant  party  of  the  evening  was  gathering.  The 
home  of  this  lady  was  in  the  city  of  Chihuahua ;  but,  fortu 
nately  for  our  ladies,  in  this  eventful  winter  she  was  making 
a  long  visit  at  San  Antonio.  She  had  chosen  this  evening 
to  give  a  brilliant  party,  by  way  of  returning  the  civilities 
which  she  had  received  from  the  ladies  of  the  Presidio. 

All  three  of  the  American  ladies  were  welcomed  with 
cordial  and  even  enthusiastic  courtesy.  The  White  Hawk 
was  quite  used,  by  this  time,  to  the  pretty  French  dresses,  in 
which  Inez  was  so  fond  of  arraying  her.  She  could  speak 
but  little  English,  less  French,  and  still  less  Spanish ;  and 
she  could  dance  but  little  English,  less  French,  and  less 
Spanish.  But  the  minuet,  as  has  been  intimated,  was  the 
common  property  of  the  world  ;  and  Inez  had  spent  time 
enough  in  compelling  Ma-ry  to  master  its  intricacies,  to  be 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  217 

rewarded  by  no  small  measure  of  success.  She  said,  herself, 
that  Ma-ry's  mistakes  were  as  pretty  as  other  people's  vic 
tories.  For  the  rest,  in  all  civilizations,  the  language  of  the 
ballroom  requires  but  a  limited  vocabulary,  so  there  be  only 
fans  and  eyes  to  supply  the  place  of  words. 

Inez  had  not  been  wrong  in  suspecting  that  she  should 
come  to  a  trial  of  wits  with  Mr.  Lonsdale.  "  See  what  he 
will  get  out  of  me,"  she  whispered  disdainfully  to  her  aunt, 
as  Mr.  Lonsdale  was  seen  bearing  down  to  cut  her  out  from 
the  protection  of  Miss  Perry's  batteries. 

"  And  what  is  your  news  from  home,  Miss  Inez  ?  " 

This  was  his  first  question  after  they  had  taken  their  places 
for  the  dance. 

"  Oh,  we  feel  that  we  bring  home  with  us  !  It  would  be 
quite  home  were  only  papa  here,  and  my  brother." 

Thus  did  Inez  reply. 

"  Indeed,  you  are  more  fortunate  than  the  rest  of  us.  We 
cannot  carry  our  household  gods  with  us  so  easily." 

Inez  bit  her  lip  that  she  need  not  say,  "  Why  do  you  come 
at  all  if  you  do  not  like  to  be  here  ?  "  But  she  said  nothing. 

Mr.  Lonsdale  had  to  begin  again,  —  a  thing  which  was 
then,  as  it  is  now,  difficult  to  men  of  his  nation  engaged  in 
conversation. 

"  I  meant  to  ask  what  is  your  news  from  the  United  States. 
Is  Mr.  Jefferson  the  President?  or  does  President  Adams 
continue  for  another  term  of  office  ?  " 

Inez  was  indignant  with  the  man,  because  he  had  not  in 
any  way  thrown  himself  open  to  her  repartee.  The  question 
was  perfectly  proper,  perfectly  harmless ;  and  it  was  one, 
alas  !  which  she  could  not  answer. 

"  I  did  not  know  what  to  say  to  him,"  she  said  afterward 
to  her  aunt.  "  So  I  told  him  the  truth." 

What  she  did  say  was  this  :  — 

"  I  do  not  know,  and  I  wish  I  did,  Mi.  Lonsdale." 

"  And  which  candidate  do  you  vote  for,  Miss  Perry?" 

"  The  hateful  creature  !  "     This  was  Inez's  inward  ejacu- 


2i8  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

lation.  "  He  means  to  draw  out  of  me  the  material  for  his 
next  despatch  to  the  tyrant.  Sooner  shall  he  draw  out  my 
tongue,  or  my  heart  itself  from  my  bosom." 

Fortunately,  however,  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  Inez 
to  tell  which  her  predilections  were.  She  answered,  still  with 
the  craft  of  honesty,  — 

"Oh,  papa  thinks  President  Adams  is  too  hard  on  oui 
French  friends.  For  me,  I  am  a  Massachusetts  girl,  and  I 
cannot  bear  to  have  a  Massachusetts  president  defeated  ;  and 
then,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  Col.  Freeman  says  that  Col.  Burr  is  a 
very  handsome  man,  and  a  very  gallant  soldier.  He  fought 
at  Monmouth,  Mr.  Lonsdale :  did  you  see  him  there,  perhaps  ? " 

And  here  the  impudent  girl  looked  up  maliciously,  well 
satisfied  that  she  had  in  one  word  implied  that  Lonsdale  was 
at  least  forty  years  old,  and  that  he  had  turned  his  back  in 
battle. 

He  was  well  pleased,  on  his  part,  and  amused  with  the 
rencontre. 

"I  did  not  see  him  at  Monmouth,"  he  said,  with  more 
animation  than  she  had  ever  seen  him  show  before.  "  I  do 
not  remember :  I  had  not  begun  my  diary  then.  I  think  I 
must  have  been  knocking  ring-taws  against  an  old  brick  wall 
we  had  in  the  garden.  But  I  have  seen  Col.  Burr.  I  have 
seen  him  take  Miss  Schuyler  down  the  dance,  and  he  did 
dance  very  elegantly,  Miss  Perry." 

"  Pray  where  was  that  ?  "  said  Inez ;  and  then  she  was 
enraged  with  herself,  that  she  should  have  betrayed  any 
interest  in  the  spy's  conversation. 

"  Oh !  it  was  at  a  very  brilliant  party  in  New  York.  Col. 
Burr  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  favorite  among  ladies,  and  I  see 
you  think  so  too.  But  I  think  that  even  in  America  they 
have  no  votes." 

"  I  was  even  with  him,  auntie.  I  said  that  in  New  Jersey 
they  had  votes,  and  that  Col.  Burr  came  from  New  Jersey." 

"  You  little  goose ! "  said  Eunice,  when  Inez  made  this 
confession.  "  What  in  the  world  had  that  to  do  with  it  ?  " 


Off,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  219 

"Well,  auntie,  it  had  nothing  to  do  with  it;  but  it  was 
very  important  to  prove  that  Mr.  Lonsdale  was  always  in  the 
wrong." 

And  in  such  a  spirit  Miss  Inez's  conversation  with  pool 
Lonsdale  went  forward,  till  this  particular  dance  was  done. 

The  pretty  and  lively  girl  was  demanded  by  other  partners 
and  she  had,  indeed,  wasted  quite  as  much  of  her  wit,  not  to 
say  of  her  impertinence,  as  she  chose,  upon  the  man  whom 
she  called  a  "  British  spy,"  and  who,  let  it  be  confessed, 
added  to  other  mortal  sins  that  of  being  at  least  three  and 
thirty  years  of  age,  and  that  of  dancing  as  badly  as  the  First 
Consul  himself.  Inez  did  not  pretend  to  disguise  her  satis 
faction,  as  he  led  her  back  to  her  duenna,  and  she  was  per 
mitted  to  give  her  hand  to  some  ensign  of  two  and  twenty. 

Lonsdale  turned,  amused  more  than  discomfited,  to  Eunice. 

"  Miss  Perry  will  not  forgive  me  for  the  sin  of  sins." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?  "  said  ]  '.unice,  laughing. 

"  Oh,  you  know  very  well !  The  sin  of  sins  is,  that  I  am 
born  the  subject  of  King  George,  and  that  at  her  behest  I  do 
not  renounce  all  allegiance  to  him,  whenever  I  pray  to  be 
delivered  from  all  the  snares  of  the  Devil." 

Eunice  laughed  again. 

"  I  hope  you  pardon  something  to  the  spirit  of  a  girl  who 
is  born  under  a  sceptre  much  more  heavy  than  that  of  the 
'  best  of  kings.'  " 

Lonsdale  might  take  "  best  of  kings  "  as  he  chose.  It  was 
the  cant  phrase  by  which  King  George  was  called  by  poets- 
laureate  and  others  of  their  kidney,  till  a  time  long  after  this. 

"  Oh !  I  can  pardon  any  thing  to  seventeen,  when  seven 
teen  is  as  frank,  not  to  say  as  piquant,  as  it  is  yonder.  Miss 
Inez  does  not  let  her  admirers  complain  of  her  insincerity." 

"  No  !  She  has  faults  enough,  I  suppose ;  though  I  love  her 
too  well  to  judge  her  harshly  enough,  I  know.  But,  among 
those  faults,  no  one  would  count  a  want  of  frankness." 

"  Still,"  said  Lonsdale,  hesitating  now,  and  approaching 
his  subject  with  an  Englishman's  rather  clumsy  determina 


Z20  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRfhi'DSi 

tion  to  say  the  thing  he  hates  to  say,  and  to  be  done  with  it, 
"still  it  seems  to  me  a  little  queer  that  Miss  Inez  can  forgive 
all  enemies  save  those  of  her  own  blood.  After  all,  it  is 
English  blood  ;  her  language  is  the  English  language,  and  her 
faith  is  the  English  faith.  Why  should  she  speak  to  an  Eng 
lishman  with  a  bitterness  with  which  no  French  girl  speaks, 
and  no  Spanish  girl  ?  We  have  fought  the  French,  and  we 
have  fought  the  Spaniards,  harder  and  longer  than  we  ever 
fought  your  people  ;  and  I  may  say,"  said  he,  laughing  now, 
"  we  have  punished  them  worse." 

"Oh!  Mr.  Lonsdale,"  said  Eunice,  who  would  gladly  have 
parried  a  subject  so  delicate,  "do  not  be  so  sensitive.  Par 
don  something  to  '  sweet  seventeen,'  and  something  to  the 
exaggeration  of  a  girl  who  has  never  set  foot  in  her  own 
country." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  I  mean  that  this  poor  child  is  an  exaggerated  American. 
She  was  born  under  the  flag  of  Spain.  She  has  heard  of  the 
excellences  of  Washington  and  Adams  and  Franklin.  She 
has  never  seen  the  littlenesses  of  their  countrymen.  She  has 
heard  of  the  trials  of  her  father's  friends.  She  has  never 
seen  the  pettiness  of  daily  politics.  She  wants  to  show  her 
patriotism  somewhere,  and  she  shows  it  by  her  raillery  of  an 
Englishman.  I  trust,  indeed,  that  she  has  not  been  rude, 
Mr.  Lonsdale." 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  your  pupil  does  you  all  credit  and  honor, 
Miss  Perry.  Miss  Inez  could  not  be  rude,  be  assured.  But 
it  is  not  of  her  only  that  I  am  speaking.  Remember,  —  nay, 
you  do  not  know,  —  but  I  have  met  your  fair  countrywomen 
in  their  homes,  in  Boston,  in  New  York,  in  Philadelphia.  I 
have  met  them,  I  have  danced  with  them,  as  with  Miss  Inez 
on  this  outpost.  Always  it  is  the  same.  Always  courtesy,  — 
hospitality  if  you  please, — but  always  defiance.  France, 
Spain,  poor  Portugal  even,  —  nay,  a  stray  Dutchman,  —  they 
welcome  cordially.  But  an  Englishman,  —  because  he  speaks 
their  language,  is  it?  —  because  he  prays  to  God,  and  not 


O£t    "SHOn    YOUR  PASSPORTS."  22 * 

to  God's  mother,  is  it?"  —  and  this  Lonsdale  said  rever 
ently,  —  "  an  Englishman  must  be  taught,  between  two  move 
ments  of  the  minuet,  that  George  IIT.  is  the  worst  of  tyrants, 
and  that  a  red  coat  is  the  disguise  of  a  monster.  Why  is 
this,  Miss  Perry  ?  As  I  say,  no  French  girl  speaks  so  to  an 
English  traveller:  no  Spanish  girl  speaks  so.  Yet  our  arms 
have  triumphed  over  France  and  Spain ;  and  —  hear  me 
confess  it  —  they  have  been  humbled,  as  they  never  were 
humbled  elsewhere,  by  our  own  children.  Is  that  any 
reason  why  our  children  should  hate  us  ? " 

It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see  Eunice  Perry  look  now  timid, 
and  now  brave.  It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see  her  look  him 
full  in  the  face,  and  then  look  down  upon  the  ground  without 
speaking.  She  tried  to  speak,  and  she  stopped.  She  hesi 
tated  once  and  again.  Then,  after  a  flush,  the  blood  wholly 
left  her  cheek.  But  she  looked  him  square  in  the  eye,  and 
said,  — 

"  You  are  frank  with  me,  Mr.  Lonsdale  :  let  me  be  frank 
with  you.  Surely  I  can  be  frank,  —  it  is  best  that  I  should 
be.  For  it  is  not  of  you  that  I  speak:  it  is  of  your  country, 
or  of  your  king.  Will  you  remember,  then,  that  you  intro 
duced  this  subject,  and  not  I  ? " 

Lonsdale  was  startled  by  her  seriousness,  though  he  had 
been  serious.  But  he  said,  — 

"  Certainly,  certainly :  pray  say  what  is  on  your  heart. 
Whatever  you  say,  I  deserve.  You  parried  my  questions  as 
long  as  you  could." 

"  Surely  I  did.  The  conversation  is  none  ot  my  seeking," 
said  Eunice,  really  proudly. 

Then  she  paused,  and  looked  again  upon  the  ground ;  but, 
when  she  had  collected  herself,  she  looked  him  fairly  in  the 
face,  as  before. 

"Mr.  Lonsdale,  when  you  fight  France,  you  fight  her 
navies  ;  when  you  fought  Spain,  you  fought  her  armies.  No 
French  girl  has  seen  an  English  soldier  on  Frerch  soil  since 
Cressy  and  Agincourt.  But,  when  you  fought  vs,  you  fought 


222  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

us  in  our  homes.  Nay,  where  we  had  no  armies,  your  cruisers 
and  squadrons  could  easily  land  soldiers  on  our  .shores,  and 
did.  Where  we  had  no  forts,  it  was  easiest  to  burn  our 
villages.  From  Falmouth  (you  do  not  know  where  Falmouth 
is),  to  Savannah  (you  do  not  know  where  that  is),  there  are 
not  fifty  miles  of  our  coast  where  an  English  cruiser  or  an 
English  fleet  has  not  landed  English  troops.  There  is  not  a 
region  of  my  country  fifty  miles  wide,  but  has  seen  an  inroad 
of  marauding  English  seamen  or  soldiers.  Your  journals 
laughed  at  your  admirals  for  campaigns  which  ended  in  steal 
ing  sheep.  But,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  because  my  father's  sheep 
were  stolen  by  Admiral  Graves's  fleet,  I,  who  talk  with  you, 
have  walked  barefoot  with  these  feet  for  twelve  months  at  a 
time  in  my  girlhood.  Nay,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  I  have  seen  my 
mother's  ears  bleeding,  because  an  English  marine  dragged 
her  ear-rings  from  her  ears.  What  French  girl  lives  who 
can  tell  you  such  a  story  ?  —  what  Spanish  girl  ?  There  is 
not  a  county  in  America,  but  a  thousand  girls,  whom  you 
meet  as  you  meet  Inez,  could  tell  you  such  ;  would  tell  you 
such,  but  that  our  nations  are  now,  thank  God !  at  peace, 
and  you  have  come  among  them  as  a  stranger  who  is  a  friend. 
They  do  not  tell  the  story.  It  is  only  I  who  tell  the  story. 
But  they  remember  the  thing.  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Lonsdale.  I 
did  not  want  to  say  this ;  and  yet  perhaps  it  is  better  that  it 
is  said." 

"Better!"  said  the  Englishman;  "a  thousand  times  better. 
It  is  the  truth.  And  really  —  I  would  not,  —  really,  you 
know, — I  would  not,  I  could  not,  have  pressed,  had  I  thought 
for  a  moment  that  I  should  give  you  pain." 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  that,"  said  Eunice  simply ;  and,  with 
an  effort,  she  changed  the  subject.  But,  after  a  beginning 
like  this,  the  Englishman  could  not,  even  if  he  wouM,  bring 
round  her  talk  to  the  subject  of  Philip  Nolan  and  his  hunters 


OX.  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  223 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  MAN   I    HATE. 

"  But  Wisdom,  peevish  and  cross-grained, 
Must  be  opposed  to  be  sustained." 

MATT.  PRIOR. 

BUT  Inez  had  no  chance  for  further  colloquy  with  hef 
aunt  that  evening.  And,  when  they  came  home  from  the 
little  ball,  perhaps  Inez  was  tired,  perhaps  her  aunt  was 
tired.  Inez  was  conscious  that  she  was  cross ;  and  she  felt 
sure  that  Aunt  Eunice  was  reserved  and  not  communicative. 

The  next  morning  she  attacked  her  to  find  out  what  she 
had  learned  from  the  mysterious  Englishman ;  the  spy,  as 
she  persevered  in  calling  him. 

"  Is  he  Blount,  dear  aunt  ?  I  have  felt  so  sure  that  he 
was  Blount  under  a  false  name.  I  suppose  he  has  a  new 
name  for  every  country  he  goes  into,  and  every  time  he 
changes  his  coat.  I  only  wish  I  had  called  him  '  Mr.  Blount,' 
lo  see  the  color  come  for  once  on  those  sallow  cheeks.  I 
mean  to  teach  Mary  to  call  him  '  Blount.'  " 

"  Nonsense,  child  !  you  have  not  the  least  idea  of  what 
you  are  talking  about.  Mr.  Blount  is  dead,  in  the  first  place : 
he  died  last  spring.  In  the  second  place,  and  in  the  third 
place,  he  was  not  an  Englishman  at  all:  he  was  a  Ten 
nessee  senator."  She  dropped  her  voice,  even  in  their  own 
room,  and  said,  "  Capt.  Phil  told  me  his  father  knew  him." 

Miss  Inez  was  a  little  put  down  by  this  firstly,  secondly, 
and  thirdly.  But  she  came  to  the  charge  again.  "  Well,  I 


*24  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

was  only  a  girl,  and  I  did  not  understand  politics.  I  thought 
that  Blount  was  a  sort  of  English  spy,  and  I  know  this  man 
is." 

Eunice  took  the  magisterial  or  duennaish  manner ;  and 
the  White  Hawk  looked  from  the  one  to  the  other,  wonder 
ing  why  Inez  was  so  much  excited,  and  why  Eunice  seemed 
so  grave. 

"  Dear  Inez,"  said  her  aunt,  "  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States  thought,  or  said  they  thought,  that  Mr.  Blount  was 
mixed  up  in  a  plot  which  King  George's  people  had  for 
getting  back  the  whole  of  our  region  —  I  mean  of  the  Amer 
ican  shore  of  the  Mississippi  —  to  the  English.  And  they 
punished  him  for  it.  And  he  died.  And  that  is  the  end  of 
Mr.  Blount." 

"  What  a  provoking  old  aunt  you  are !  Of  course  I  do 
not  care  whether  his  name  is  Blount,  or  what  it  is,  so  long  as 
I  am  sure  that  it  never  was  Lonsdale  till  he  landed  in  Mex 
ico.  I  am  sure  I  used  to  hear  no  end  of  talk  about  Mr. 
Blount ;  and  —  and  —  I  have  it  —  it  was  Capt.  Chisholm, 
aunt.  There  !  "  And  the  girl  jumped  up,  and  performed  an 
Apache  war-dance  with  the  White  Hawk,  in  token  that  she 
had  now  rightly  detected  the  name  of  her  enemy. 

"You  look  as  if  you  could  scalp  him,  Inez.  Take  care, 
or  White  Hawk  will." 

"  Scalp  him  !  scalping  is  too  good  for  him,  dear  aunt.  I 
could  scalp  him  beautifully.  Let  me  show  you."  And  she 
flew  at  poor  Aunt  Eunice  on  the  moment,  seized  from  her 
luxuriant  hair  a  pretty  gold  stiletto  on  which  it  was  wound, 
gathered  the  rich  curls  up  in  her  own  left  hand,  and  then, 
waving  the  stiletto  above  her  head,  with  a  perfect  war-cry, 
affected  to  plunge  it  into  the  offending  chevclure.  The 
White  Hawk  laughed  in  a  most  un-Indian  way ;  and  poor 
Eunice  fought  valiantly  to  liberate  herself. 

When  peace  was  restored,  by  a  ransom  on  both  sides  of  a 
few  kisses,  Inez  flung  herself  on  the  floor,  and  said,  — 

"  Respectable  lady,  will  you  tell  me  now  what  was  your 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  225 

conversation  with  Capt.  Chisholm,  now  disguised  in  this 
presidio  under  the  fictitious  name  of  Lonsdale,  called  an 
alias  to  procurators  and  counsel  learned  in  the  law  ;  other 
wise  known  as  '  The  Man  I  Hate '  ? "  And  she  waved  the 
stiletto  again  wildly  above  her  head. 

"  My  dear  pussy,  Mr.  Lonsdale  is  no  more  a  soldier  than 
you  are ;  and  I  do  not  believe  he  ever  heard  of  Capt.  Chis 
holm.  When  he  goes  to  Orleans  they  will  talk  to  him  about 
those  things  perhaps  ;  but  in  England  they  were  as  much 
secrets  as  they  are  here." 

"  About  what  things,  dear  aunt  ? "  said  Inez,  as  serious 
now  as  she  had  been  outrageous. 

"  About  that  foolish  plan  of  the  governor  of  Canada  to 
pick  up  the  stitches  they  dropped  when  they  lost  the  Missis 
sippi  River.  It  was  all  a  bold  intrigue  of  the  people  in 
Canada,  who  probably  had  some  instructions  from  London, 
or  perhaps  only  asked  for  some.  But  there  were  not  ten 
men  in  England  who  ever  heard  of  the  plan.  The  governor 
of  Canada  sent  this  Capt.  Chisholm  through  to  us,  to  see 
what  could  be  done.  And  some  foolish  people  fell  into  the 
plot :  that  is  all." 

"  And  Mr.  Lonsdale  the  spy,  otherwise  known  as  '  The 
Man  I  Hate,' "  —  these  words  were  accompanied  as  before 
by  the  brandishing  of  the  stiletto,  —  "  has  been  sent  again  on 
just  the  same  errand.  Only  this  time  he  begins  at  Vera  Cruz 
and  Mexico.  He  travels  north  by  Monterey  and  Monteclo- 
vez.  He  pretends  to  be  interested  in  volcanoes  and  botany 
and  in  butterflies.  He  makes  weak  little  water-color  pictures, 
almost  as  bad  as  mine,  of  the  ruins  of  Tlascala  and  Cholula 
All  this  is  a  mask,  a  vain  and  useless  mask,  to  disguise  him 
from  my  eyes  and  those  of  my  countrymen.  But  see  how 
vain  is  falsehood  before  truth  !  The  moment  he  looks  me  in 
the  face,  the  mean  disguise  falls  off,  and  the  spy  appears. 
Another  Andre*,  another  Arnold,  stands  before  me,  in  the 
presence  of  '  THE  MAN  I  HATE.'  " 

"  How  did  you  find  him  out  ? "  asked  Eunice,  laughing. 


226  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

"  First,  Mine.  Malgares  said  that  he  was  a  hidalgo  of  the 
highest  rank  at  King  George's  court,  that  he  was  a  duke  of 
the  blue  blood,  and  that  Lonsdale  was  only  the  name  by 
which  he  travels  incognito." 

"  But  it  is  not  a  week  since  you  told  me  that  Mme.  Mal 
gares  was  a  fool.  I  do  not  believe  English  princes  of  the 
blood  travel  incognito  in  the  heart  of  Mexico." 

"  Mme.  Malgares  may  be  a  fool,"  said  little  Inez  v/isely ; 
"  but  none  the  less  may  an  acute  and  adroit  man,  who  has 
even  deceived  Miss  Eunice  Perry,  have  dropped  his  guard 
when  he  spoke  to  her." 

Inez  was,  however,  a  little  annoyed  by  her  aunt's  retort, 
and  she  tried  her  second  reason. 

"  Second,  his  talk  of  butterflies  and  of  flowers  is  not  the 
talk  of  a  virtuoso,  nor  even  of  an  artist.  It  is  assumed." 
Here  she  waved  the  dagger  again.  "  He  talks  with  interest 
when  he  drops  his  voice,  when  he  inquires  about  President 
Adams,  or  Mr.  Jefferson,  about  Capt.  Nolan,  or  "  — 

"  Heigh-ho !  "  and  her  animation  was  at  an  end ;  and,  poor 
girl,  she  really  looked  sad  and  pale. 

"  About  whom  ?  "  said  Eunice  thoughtlessly. 

But  Inez  was  not  to  be  caught. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  who  was  president.  What  a  shame  it 
should  take  so  long  for  news  to  come,  when  we  came  so 
quickly !  Why,  I  dare  say  Roland  knows,  and  papa ;  and 
we  know  nothing." 

But  Eunice  Perry  was  not  deceived  by  Inez's  change  of 
subject.  She  was  as  much  surprised  as  Inez  was,  that  they 
had  no  message  nor  token  from  William  Harrod  ;  and  she 
was  quite  as  anxious  about  Philip  Nolan,  too.  as  her  niece 
could  be. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  moment  when  the  ladies \\ere  discussing 
Mr.  Lonsdale  so  coolly,  he  was  trying  to  take  old  Ransom's 
measure.  With  or  without  an  object  of  pressing  his  inquiries, 
he  had  walked  out  to  the  stables  to  have  the  personal  assur 
ance  which  every  good  traveller  needs,  that  the  horses  which 


OX,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  227 

had  brought  him  all  the  way  from  Mexico,  and  were  to  carry 
him  farther  on  his  journey,  were  well  cared  for.  At  the 
stables  he  found,  and  was  well  pleased  to  find,  old  Ransom. 

"Good-morning,  Ransom,"  he  said,  half  shyly  and  half 
proudly.  He  spoke,  unconsciously,  with  the  "  air  of  conde 
scension  observable  in  some  foreigners,"  and  with  an  uncer 
tainty  which  was  not  unnatural  as  to  whether  Ransom  were 
or  were  not  a  servant. 

The  truth  was,  that  Ransom  was  entitled  to  all  the  privi 
leges  of  a  servant,  and  took  all  the  privileges  of  a  master. 
He  noticed  Mr.  Lonsdale's  hesitation  instantly,  and  from 
that  moment  was  master  of  the  situation. 

"  Mornin',  sir,"  was  his  reply  ;  and  then  he  went  on  in  a 
curious  objurgation,  in  four  or  more  languages,  addressed  to 
the  half-breed  who  was  currying  Miss  Inez's  horse. 

"  They  do  not  treat  horses  quite  as  we  do,"  said  Lonsdale, 
trying  to  be  condescending. 

"  Donno  what  you  do  to  'em,"  said  Ransom  civilly  enough : 
"there's  a  good  many  ways  to  spile  a  horse.  These  here 
Greasers  knows  most  of  'em." 

"  Will  you  come  into  the  stable,  and  look  at  my  bay  ? " 
said  Lonsdale  artfully.  "  I  do  not  like  to  trust  him  with 
these  fellows." 

The  old  man  understood  that  this  was  a  bribe,  as  distinctly 
as  if  Lonsdale  had  offered  him  half  a  crown.  But  no  man  is 
beyond  the  reach  of  flattery,  —  as  the  old  saw  says,  we  are  at 
least  pleased  that  we  are  worth  flattering,  —  and  he  accom 
panied  the  Englishman  into  the  other  wing  of  the  stable 
buildings.  Having  given  there  such  advice  as  seemed  good, 
he  loitered,  as  Lonsdale  did,  in  the  open  courtyard. 

"  Is  there  any  news  from  above  ? "  said  the  Englishman, 
pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  road  up  the  river. 

Ransom  had  not  had  time  to  determine  on  his  answer. 
He  would  have  been  glad  to  know  what  the  ladies  had  told 
Lonsdale.  As  he  did  not  know,  he  fell  back  on  his  policy 
of  general  distrust. 


228  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

"  Them  redskins  was  back  yesterday.  All  got  so  drunk 
couldn't  tell  nothin'." 

"  I  wish  I  could  hear  from  Capt.  Nolan,"  said  Lonsdale, 
—  not  as  if  he  were  asking  a  question. 

"Needn't  be  troubled  about  him,"  said  Ransom  gloomily: 
"he'll  take  care  of  himself." 

"I  think  he  will,"  said  the  Englishman,  with  an  easy 
good-nature,  which  failed  him  as  little  in  meeting  Ransom's 
brevities,  as  when  he  met  little  Inez's  impertinences,  —  "I 
think  he  will.  But  I  would  be  glad  to  know  there  was  no 
fighting." 

Ransom  said  nothing. 

The  other  waited  a  moment,  and,  finding  that  he  should 
draw  nothing  unless  he  gave  something,  risked  something, 
and  said, — 

"Capt.  Nolan  has  no  better  friend  than  I  am.  I  never 
saw  him  ;  but  I  know  he  is  an  honorable  gentleman.  And  I 
do  not  want  to  see  him  and  his  country  at  a  disadvantage 
when  they  meet  these  idolaters  and  barbarians." 

The  words  were  such  as  he  would  not,  perhaps,  have  used 
in  other  circles.  But  they  were  not  badly  chosen.  Certainly 
they  were  not,  considering  that  his  first  object  was  to  detach 
the  old  man  from  the  policy  of  reserve.  Ransom  himself 
had  often  called  the  priests  "  them  idolaters  "  in  his  talk  with 
Miss  Perry,  with  Inez,  and  even  with  the  White  Hawk,  —  in 
faithful  recollection  of  discourses  early  listened  to  from 
Puritan  pulpits.  But  not  in  Orleans,  least  of  all  in  his 
master's  house,  never  even  from  his  confreres  in  Capt. 
Nolan's  troop  or  with  Harrod,  had  he  heard  the  frank 
expression  of  a  dislike  as  hearty  as  his  own. 

His  own  grim  smile  stole  over  his  face,  not  unobserved  by 
the  Englishman. 

"  The  truth  is,  Mr.  Ransom,"  said  Lonsdale,  following  his 
advantage,  "  there  are  a  plenty  of  reasons  why  your  country 
should  make  war  with  Spain,  and  why  my  country  should 
help  you  if  you  will  let  us.  But,  when  that  war  comes,  let  it 


OK,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  229 

be  a  war  of  armies  and  generals  and  fleets  and  admirals. 
Do  not  let  an  honorable  gentleman  like  Mr.  Nolan  be  flung 
away  in  a  wilderness  where  nobody  can  help  him." 

He  had  said  enough  to  change  the  whole  current  of  Ran 
som's  thought  and  plan.  Wisely  or  not,  Ransom  took  into 
his  favor  a  man  who  held  such  views  as  to  the  Spanish 
monarchy.  He  inwardly  cemented  a  treaty  of  pp ace  with 
Lonsdale,  based  on  information  which  for  years  he  had 
carried  in  the  recesses  of  a  heart  which  never  betrayed 
confidence. 

The  well-informed  American  reader  should  not  need  to  be 
told,  that  not  only  through  the  West,  but  wherever  there  were 
active  young  men  in  the  American  army,  at  that  time,  the 
hope  of  "  conquering  or  rescuing "  Mexico  —  as  the  phrase 
was  —  had  found  its  way  as  among  the  probable  or  the 
desirable  futures  of  the  American  soldier.  When  Taylor  and 
Scott  entered  Mexico  in  triumph,  in  1846,  they  were  but 
making  those  visions  of  glory  which  had  excited  Alexander 
Hamilton  and  his  friends  nearly  fifty  years  before.  A  Curious 
thing  it  is,  among  the  revenges  and  revelations  of  history,  that 
Hamilton's  great  rival,  Burr,  blasted  his  own  fame  and  ruined 
his  own  life,  by  taking  up  the  very  plan  and  the  very  hope 
which  Hamilton  had  nursed  with  more  reason,  and,  indeed, 
with  more  hope  of  success,  a  few  years  before.  Silas  Perry 
himself  was  not  more  interested  in  the  plans  of  Miranda,  the 
South  American  adventurer,  than  was  Alexander  Hamilton. 
And  in  Miranda's  early  schemes,  as  is  well  known,  he  relied 
on  the  co-operation,  not  of  undisciplined  freebooters  from  the 
American  States,  but  of  the  American  army  under  the  direc 
tion  of  the  American  President.  When,  under  President 
Adams,  that  army  was  greatly  enlarged,  —  when  Washington 
was  placed  at  its  head,  with  Hamilton  for  the  first  in  com 
mand  under  him,  — this  army  was  not  to  act  in  ignoble  sea 
board  defences.  It  was  recruited  to  be  stationed  at  the  posts 
which  have  since  become  cities  on  the  Ohio  and  the  Missis 
sippi  ;  and,  when  the  moment  came,  Hamilton  was  to  lead  it 


230  "HILir  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

to  Orleans,  and,  if  God  so  ordered,  to  Mexico.  "  Only  twenty 
days  march  to  San  Antonio,"  says  one  of  those  early  letters, 
anticipating  by  a  generation  the  days  of  Houston  and  David 
Crockett.31 

Of  course  all  these  plans  were  secrets  of  state.  Not  too 
much  of  them  is  now  to  be  found  in  the  archives  of  Wash 
ington,  or  in  the  published  correspondence.  The  War 
Department  was,  very  unfortunately,  —  or  shall  we  say,  very 
conveniently?  —  burned,  with  its  contents,  in  1800.  But  no 
such  secrets  could  exist,  no  such  plans  could  be  formed,  with 
out  correspondence  —  private  indeed,  for  more  than  success 
hung  on  the  privacy  —  with  the  handful  of  loyal  Americans 
who  lived  in  Orleans.  They  were,  to  the  last  drop  of  their 
blood,  interested  to  see  such  plans  succeed.  Their  co-opera 
tion,  so  far  as  it  could  be  rendered  fairly,  must  be  relied  on 
when  the  moment  for  action  came.  Oliver  Pollock,  already 
spoken  of  in  these  pages,  who  had  supplied  powder  to  Fort 
Pitt  in  those  early  days  of  Washington's  battles,  when  pow 
der  was  like  gold-dust,  had,  before  this  time,  left  Orleans  for 
Baltimore.  There  he  was  able  to  give  to  the  Government 
such  advice  as  it  needed.  When  such  an  agent  as  Wilkinson, 
or  Freeman,  or  Nolan,  was  despatched  to  Orleans,  he  con 
fided  what  he  dared  to  such  reliable  men  as  Silas  Perry  or 
Daniel  Clark. 

In  Silas  Perry's  household  there  were  many  secrets  of 
business  or  of  state  ;  but  none  were  secrets  to  Seth  Ransom. 
True,  there  was  a  certain  affectation  maintained,  as  to  what 
he  knew,  and  what  he  did  not  know.  When  the  time  came 
for  a  revelation,  Silas  Perry  would  make  that  revelation,  for 
form's  sake.  He  would  say,  "  Ransom,  I  am  going  to  send 
two  boxes  to  Master  Roland,  by  the  '  Nancy,'  to  Bordeaux." 
But  then  he  knew  that  Ransom  knew  this  already ;  and  Ran 
som  knew  that  he  knew  that  he  knew  it.  There  were  occa 
sions,  indeed,  when  Silas  Perry  was  humiliated  in  the  family 

-  Wilkinson's  letters  to  Hamilton,  and  Hamilton's  in  reply  on  this  sulqect,  ar« 
•till  extant  in  MS. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  231 

counsels,  because  he  was  obliged  to  ask  for  Random's  unof- 
fered  assistance  in  secret  matters.  There  was  a  celebrated 
occasion,  when  Mr.  Perry  had  lost  the  will  of  Gen.  Morgan 
which  that  officer  had  intrusted  to  him  for  safe  and  secret 
deposit.  Silas  Perry  had  put  it  away,  without  whispering  a 
word  of  it  to  any  one,  not  even  to  his  sister,  far  less  to  Inez  ; 
and  he  had  forgotten  it  through  and  through.  And  at  last, 
years  after,  a  messenger  came  in  haste  for  it,  Gen.  Morgan 
being  ill,  and  wishing  to  change  it.  Mr.  Perry  came  from 
the  counting-house,  and  spent  hours  of  a  hot  day  in  mad 
search  for  it.  And  finally,  when  he  was  almost  sick  from 
disgrace  and  despair,  Eunice  called  Ransom  to  her. 

The  old  man  entered,  displeased  and  disgusted. 

"  Ransom,  Mr.  Perry  has  lost  an  important  paper." 

"  Know  he  has." 

"It  is  the  will  of  Gen.  Morgan,  and  the  general  has  sent 
for  it." 

"Know  he  has." 

"  My  brother  cannot  find  it" 

"  Know  he  can't." 

Eunice  even  —  whom  he  loved  —  was  obliged  to  humiliate 
herself. 

"  Do  you  remember  his  ever  speaking  to  you  of  it  ?  " 

"  Never  said  a  word  to  me." 

Eunice  had  to  prostrate  herself  further. 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  find  it  ?  " 

"  Could,  if  he  told  me  to." 

"Ransom,  would  you  find  it?  he  is  very  much  troubled 
about  it." 

Ransom's  triumph  was  now  complete;  and  he  led  his 
humbled  master  and  mistress  to  the  forgotten  crypt  where 
the  \\ill  was  laid  away. 

To  such  a  man,  the  general  plan  of  Hamilton,  Miranda, 
the  English  Cabinet,  and  the  American  Government,  was 
known  as  soon  as  it  had  been  confidentially  discussed  be 
tween  Gen.  Wilkinson  and  Silas  Perry.  It  was  as  safe  with 


232  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

him  as  with  the  English  foreign  secretary;  far  safer,  as  has 
proved  since,  than  it  was  with  Wilkinson.  Ransom  knew 
now,  therefore,  that  within  four  years  past  the  co-operation 
of  an  English  fleet,  an  American  army,  and  Spanish  insur 
gents  had  been  among  things  hoped  for  by  the  most 
intelligent  men  in  his  own  country.  And  so  the  few  words 
which  Lonsdale  spoke  now  led  him  instantly  to  the  hasty  con 
viction  that  Lonsdale  was  a  confidential  agent  in  a  renewal 
of  the  same  combination. 

I  am  afraid  this  discussion  of  politics  has  been  but  rapidly 
read  by  the  younger  part  of  those  friends  who  are  kind 
enough  to  hurry  over  these  lines.  Let  me'  only  say  to  them, 
that,  if  they  will  take  the  pains  to  read  it,  they  will  find  the 
first  step  in  the  course  which  this  country  marched  in  for 
sixty  years.  That  course  eventually  gave  to  it  Texas,  and 
afterward  California.  Among  other  things,  meanwhile,  it 
gave  to  it  Oregon,  and  all  east  of  Oregon.  And,  when 
Kansas  and  Nebraska  came  to  be  settled,  came  the  question, 
"  How  ? "  And  out  of  that  question  came  the  great  civil 
war,  which  even  the  youngest  of  these  young  readers  does 
not  think  unimportant. 

And,  indeed,  there  needed  powers  not  less  than  the  states 
manship  of  Adams  and  Rufus  King,  the  chivalry  of  Hamilton, 
and  the  fanaticism  of  Miranda,  to  bring  about  a  marvel  like 
that  of  peaceful  talk  between  Seth  Ransom  and  an  English 
man. 

"  Do  not  let  an  honorable  gentleman  like  Mr.  Nolan  be 
flung  away  in  a  wilderness  where  no  one  can  help  him." 
These  were  Lonsdale's  words  of  frankness. 

"  Said  so  myself.  Said  so  to  him,  and  said  so  to  Mr. 
Harrod.  Told  'em  both  it  was  all  dam  nonsense.  Ef  the 
Greasers  was  after  'em,  told  'em  to  get  out  of  the  way,  and 
wait  for  the  folks  up  above  to  settle  'em." 

"Well ! "  said  Lonsdale  eagerly,  "  and  what  did  they  say  ? " 

"  They  said  they  was  ready  for  'em.  They  said  they  was 
nobody  at  Noches  that  dared  follow  where  they  was  goin' : 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS:1  233 

they  wasn't  enough  men  there.  An'  they  wasn't  when  we 
was  there.  Mr.  Harrod  an'  I  counted  the  horses,  we  did. 
They  wasn't  enough  when  we  was  there.  But,"  after  a  pause, 
"  they's  been  more  men  sent  'em  since.  Hundred  an'  sixty 
men  went  from  this  place  over  here,  —  went  two  months 
ago  to  Noches."  Another  pause.  Ransom  looked  over  his 
shoulder,  made  sure  there  were  no  listeners,  and  dropped  his 
voice :  "  Sent  word  of  this  to  the  cap'n.  Got  his  message 
back  yesterday.  He  left  for  home  a  week  ago  yesterday." 

"God  be  praised!"  said  Lonsdale  so  eagerly  that  even 
Inez  would  have  had  some  trust  in  him.  "  If  only  he  runs 
the  lookout  at  Nacogdoches  !  " 

"  He  passed  within  ten  miles  on  'em  while  they  was 
dancin'  and  figurin'  with  the  ladies,"  said  the  old  man,  well 
pleased.  "  Guess  he  won't  run  into  their  mouths  this  time." 

"  If  he  gets  safe  home,"  said  the  other,  "  he  will  have 
chances  enough  to  come  over  here,  with  an  army  behind 
him." 

"  Mebbe,"  was  the  sententious  reply.  But  Ransom  doubted 
already  whether  he  had  not  gone  too  far  in  his  relations  to  an 
officer  of  the  English  crown,  as  he  chose  to  suppose  Lonsdale 
to  be  ;  and  his  confidences  for  this  day  were  over. 

Was  he  wise,  indeed,  in  trusting  "The  Man  I  Hate,"  so 
far  as  he  had  done  ? 

We  shall  see  —  what  we  shall  see. 


234  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

BATTLE. 

41  The  cowards  would  have  fled,  but  that  they  knew 
Themselves  so  many,  and  their  foes  so  few. ' 

C;  man  and  Iphigenia, 

THE  question  whether  Spain  and  America  should  meet  in 
battle  in  the  forests  of  Texas  was,  at  that  moment,  already 
decided,  although  Ransom  and  Lonsdale  did  not  know  it. 
The  descendants  of  Raleigh  and  Sydney  and  Drake  and 
Hawkins,  of  Amyas  Leigh  and  Bertram  and  Robinson 
Crusoe  and  their  countrymen,  were  to  take  up  the  gage 
of  battle  which  had  lain  forgotten  so  long,  and  were  to  meet 
in  fight  the  descendants  of  Alva  and  Cortez  and  Pizarro, 
and  De  Soto  and  Philip  the  Second. 

And  for  fifty  years  that  battle  was  to  go  on  ;  not  on  the 
seas  as  in  Drake's  days  and  Howard's,  but  on  the  land, 
in  sight  of  the  very  palaces  Cortez  had  wondered  at,  and  in 
the  very  deserts  in  which  De  Soto  had  wandered. 

And,  when  the  glove  was  first  picked  up,  poor  Philip 
Nolan,  alas !  was  the  brave  knight  who  stood  for  the  faith 
and  for  the  star  of  Sidney  and  Howard. 

Of  tne  tragedy  which  followed,  in  the  twenty-four  hours 
since  we  saw  him,  history  has  left  us  two  accounts  —  one,  the 
journal  of  Muzquiz,  the  officer  whom  we  saw  kissing  his  hand 
at  Chihuahua ;  and  the  other,  the  tale  of  Ellis  Bean,  the 
youngest  of  Nolan's  companions.  They  differ  in  detail,  as 
is  of  course ;  but,  as  to  the  general  history  of  that  cruel 
day,  we  know  the  story,  and  we  know  it  only  too  well. 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  235 

The  custom  of  Nolan's  camp  was  always  that  a  third  of 
the  little  party  should  keep  the  night-watch  while  two-thirds 
slept.  It  had  happened,  naturally  enough,  that  the.  five  Span 
iards  —  as  the  Mexicans  o'f  the  party  were  always  called, 
when  they  were  not  called  "  Greasers  "  —  made  one  of  the 
three  watches.  And,  as  destiny  ordered,  these  five  were  on 
duty  on  the  night  after  Crooked  Feather  left  with  his  mes 
sage.  "  As  destiny  ordered,"  one  says  :  had  they  not  been 
there,  Philip  Nolan  perhaps  would  never  have  been  a  martyr, 
and  these  words  had  never  been  written.  Destiny,  careless 
ness,  or  treachery,  that  night  put  these  five  men  on  guard. 
It  was  the  2ist  of  March;  and  in  that  climate,  to  such  men 
as  these  young  fellows,  there  was  little  hardship  in  such  beds 
as  they  had  provided.  They  slept,  and  their  leader  slept,  as 
hunters  sleep  after  one  day  of  work,  and  before  another  of 
enterprise.  He  had  not  confided  to  any  of  them  but  Black 
burn  the  plan  for  an  immediate  return. 

Of  a  sudden  the  trampling  of  horses  roused  him.  It  was 
dark  ;  still  he  judged  it  past  midnight.  The  fear  of  a  stam 
pede,  or  of  Indian  thieves,  was  always  present,  and  Nolan 
was  on  his  feet.  He  hailed  the  guard. 

No  answer ! 

He  left  the  little  shed  in  which  they  were  sleeping.  The 
guard  were  gone. 

"  Blackburn  !  Bean  !  Caesar  !  The  Greasers  are  gone ! 
Call  all  the  men  !  " 

In  the  darkness  the  men  gathered. 

From  their  wall  of  logs  they  peered  out  into  the  forest. 
It  was  not  so  dark  but  they  could  see  here  a  figure  passing 
and  there.  Nolan  and  the  others  hailed  in  Spanish,  and  in 
various  Indian  tongues  ;  but  they  got  no  answers. 

"  Who  will  come  to  the  corral  with  me  ? "  cried  their  fear 
less  leader. 

Half  a  dozen  men  volunteered. 

They  crossed  to  the  corral  to  find  that  the  horses  were 
safe.  It  was  no  stampeding  party.  Philip  Nolan  knew  at 


236  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

that  instant  that  he  had  not  Indians  to  fight  against,  but  the 
forces  of  the  Most  Catholic  King  of  Spain ;  one  hundred 
and  sixty  of  them  too,  if  Miss  Eunice  had  been  right  in  her 
counting. 

Of  this  he  said  nothing  to  his  men.  He  bade  each  man 
charge  his  rifle  ;  but  no  man  was  to  fire  till  he  gave  the 
word.  He  looked  for  his  own  double-barreled  fowling-piece. 
It  was  gone.  One  of  the  "  Greasers  "  had  stolen  it,  as  he 
deserted.1 

This  act  made  their  bad  faith  the  more  certain,  and  re 
vealed  to  the  men,  what  Nolan  never  doubted,  the  character 
of  their  enemies.  He  bade  them  keep  well  covered  by  the 
logs,  and  so  they  waited  for  the  gray  of  the  morning. 

Nor  did  they  wait  long.  A  party  of  the  besiegers  ap 
proached.  Nolan  showed  himself  fearlessly. 

"Take  care  how  you  come  nearer,"  he  cried.  "One  or 
other  of  us  will  die  if  you  do." 

They  halted  like  children,  as  they  were  bidden. 

"  Who  will  come  with  me  this  time  ? "  said  he  ;  and  again 
the  volunteers  were  all  that  he  could  ask. 

"  No,  not  with  rifles  !  Lay  down  your  rifles."  And  he 
stepped  forth  unarmed  from  the  little  enclosure ;  and  they, 
without  gun  or  pistol,  followed. 

Again  Nolan  hailed  the  enemy  in  Spanish. 

"  Do  not  come  near,  for  one  or  other  of  us  will  be  killed 
if  you  do."  On  this  there  was  a  consultation  among  the 
enemy  ;  and,  with  a  white  flag,  an  Irishman  whose  name  was 
Barr  came  near  enough  to  talk  with  Nolan  in  English.  He 
said  his  commander  was  a  lieutenant  named  Muzquiz,  and 
he  justified  Eunice's  count  of  a  hundred  and  sixty  men. 
Unless  Nolan  had  more  men  than  he  seemed  to  have,  fight 
was  hopeless,  Barr  said. 

"  We  shall  see  that,"  said  Nolan.  "  What  terms  do  they 
offer  us  ? " 

1  The  piece  was  afterward  seen  by  Lieut  Pike ;  and  Muzquiz,  the  Spaniard 
describes  the  theft. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  237 

Barr  was  not  authorized  to  offer  any  terms.  The  orders 
of  Muzquiz  were  to  arrest  them,  and  send  them  prisoners  to 
Coahuila. 

"  Arrest  us ! "  said  Nolan,  "  when  you  know  I  have  your 
governor's  permit  to  collect  these  horses  for  your  own  army 
in  Louisiana,  and  to  bring  in  goods,  if  I  choose,  to  pay  the 
Indians  for  them  ;  do  you  mean  to  arrest  me  ?  " 

Barr  said  he  could  say  nothing  of  that.  Muzquiz  had 
come  to  arrest  them,  and  he  expected  them  to  surrender  "  in 
the  name  of  the  king." 

Nolan  turned  to  his  men ;  but  he  needed  not  to  consult 
them.  They  knew  what  Spanish  courtesy  to  prisoners  was 
too  well.  "  Let  them  fight  if  they  choose,"  was  the  senti 
ment  of  one  and  all.  Barr  went  back  to  his  master ;  and 
Nolan  and  his  companions  to  the  little  log  enclosure,  which 
was  yesterday  only  the  poorest  horse-pen,  and  was  to-day  a 
fort  beleaguered  and  defended. 

Who  knows  what,  even  with  such  odds,  the  end  might  have 
been  !  These  gallant  Spanish  troopers,  ten  to  one,  did  not 
dare  risk  themselves  too  near.  But,  not  ten  minutes  after 
the  sharp-shooting  began,  Nolan  exposed  himself  too  fear 
lessly,  was  struck  by  a  ball  in  the  head,  and  fell  dead,  with 
out  a  word. 

Muzquiz  had  brought  with  him  a  little  swivel,  on  the  back 
of  a  mule.  He  did  not  dare  risk  his  men  before  the  Ken 
tucky  and  Mississippi  sharp-shooters.  But  it  was  easy  fight 
ing,  to  load  this  little  cannon  with  grape-shot,  and  fire  it 
pell-mell  upon  the  logs.  If  one  of  his  men  exposed  himself, 
a  warning  rifle-shot  showed  that  some  one  was  alive  within. 
But  the  Spaniards  kept  their  distance  bravely,  and  loaded 
and  fired  the  swivel  behind  the  shelter  which  the  careful 
Muzquiz  had  prepared. 

Within  the  pen  there  were  various  counsels.  Ellis  Bean, 
the  youngest  of  the  party,  probably  offered  the  best ;  which 
was,  that  at  the  moment  the  swivel  was  next  discharged  they 
should  dash  upon  it  and  take  it,  trusting  to  the  Spaniards' 


238  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

unwillingness  to  die  first.  "  It  is  at  most  but  death,"  said 
Bean ;  "  and  we  may  as  well  die  so  as  in  their  mines."  And 
two  or  three  of  the  boldest  of  them  held  with  Bean.  But  the 
more  cautious  men  said  that  this  was  madness.  And  so, 
after  four  hours  of  this  aiming  into  the  thicket  from  behind 
the  logs,  they  loosened  the  logs  on  the  side  opposite  the 
swivel,  and  then  took  the  opportunity  of  the  next  discharge 
to  escape  from  their  fortress  into  the  woods,  bearing  with 
them  two  wounded  men,  but  leaving  the  body  of  their  brave 
commander. 

There  were  but  nine  well  men  left,  after  the  desertion,  and 
these  two  wounded  fellows.  Each  man  filled  his  powder- 
horn  ;  and  to  old  Caesar,  who  had  no  gun,  was  given  the 
remaining  stock  of  powder  to  carry.  For  a  few  minutes 
their  retreat  was  not  noticed.  They  got  a  little  the  start  of 
the  swivel-firers.  But  the  silence  of  the  pen-walls  told  a 
story ;  and  the  Spaniards  soon  mustered  courage  to  attack 
an  empty  fortress.  Nothing  there  but  Phil  Nolan's  body, 
and  the  little  stores  of  the  encampment ! 

Warily  the  host  followed.  Mounted  men  as  they  were, 
they  of  course  soon  overtook  these  footmen.  But  they  kept 
a  prudent  distance  still.  No  man  wanted  to  be  the  first 
shot ;  and  the  whir  of  an  occasional  bullet  would  remind  the 
more  adventurous  that  it  was  better  to  be  cautious.  At  last, 
however,  they  made  a  prize.  Poor  Caesar,  with  his  heavy 
load,  had  lagged  ;  and,  as  he  had  no  gun,  a  brave  trooper 
pounced  upon  him.  All  the  powder  of  the  pursued  troop 
was  thus  in  the  hands  of  the  pursuers. 

The  next  victory,  announced  by  a  cheer  of  Spanish  rap 
ture,  was  the  surrender  of  one  of  the  wounded  men.  He 
could  not  keep  up  with  his  friends,  and  he  would  not  delay 
them.  He  was  seen  waving  a  white  rag,  and  was  surrounded 
by  the  advance  with  a  shout  of  victory. 

So  passed  six  hours  of  pursuit  and  retreat.  Muzquiz  sent 
a  body  in  advance,  to  command,  with  their  carbines,  both 
sides  of  the  trail  he  knew  his  enemy  would  take.  But  so 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  239 

cautious  was  the  Spanish  fire,  that  the  fortunate  fellows 
passed  through  this  defile  without  losing  a  man.  Well  for 
them  that  the  Spaniards  believed  so  religiously  in  the  dis 
tance  to  which  the  Kentucky  rifle  would  carry  lead  !  Six 
hours  of  pursuit  and  retreat !  At  last  Fero,  who  was  more 
like  a  commander  than  any  others  in  the  little  company,  and 
Blackburn  the  Quaker,  called  a  halt.  They  counted  their 
forces.  All  here,  but  he  who  had  insisted  on  surrendering 
himself,  —  save,  alas !  Caesar. 

Every  man's  horn  was  nearly  empty.  Imless  Ccesar  could 
be  found  —  all  was  lost ! 

No.     He  cannot  be  found ! 

They  are  brave  fellows  ;  but  there  is  nothing  for  it,  but  to 
hoist  a  white  flag,  which  Muzquiz  welcomed  gladly. 

He  knew  now  what  he  could  do,  and  what  he  could  not 
do.  He  knew  he  could  not  make  Spanish  troopers  with 
iheir  carbines  stand  the  sure  fire  of  the  Kentucky  rifle.  He 
knew  Nolan  was  dead.  The  danger  of  the  expedition  was 
at  an  end.  His  own  advancement  was  sure.  In  any  event, 
it  was  victory. 

Muzquiz  therefo.re  sent  in  Barr  the  Irishman  again,  and 
this  time  bade  him  offer  terms.  The  little  party  was  to 
return  to  Nachitoches,  and  never  come  into  Texas  any  more. 
In  particular  they  were  to  promise  to  make  no  establishment 
with  the  Indians. 

To  this  they  replied,  that  he  might  have  saved  himself 
trouble.  This  was  just  what  he  wanted  to  do.  But  they 
added  that  they  should  never  give  up  their  arms. 

They  were  assured  that  this  was  not  demanded  :  only  they 
must  agree  to  be  escorted  back  to  Natchitoches. 

To  this  they  agreed,  if  they  might  go  back  and  bury 
Nolan.  Muzquiz  consented  to  this.  The  party  marched 
back  together,  and  buried  him.  But  no  man  knows  his  rest 
ing-place.  Nolan's  River,  a  little  branch  of  the  Brasses,  is 
the  only  monument  of  his  fame. 

The  whole  party  then  turned  eastward,  and  marched  good- 


240  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

naturedly  enough  together  to  Nacogdoches.  Once  and 
again  the  Spaniards  had  to  accept  of  the  superior  skill 
of  the  Americans,  in  building  rafts,  or  constructing  other 
methods  for  crossing  the  swollen  streams.  So  they  arrived 
at  the  little  garrison.  Which  were  the  conquerors  ? 

It  would  have  been  hard  to  tell,  until  the  morning  after 
their  arrival,  when  the  Americans  were  disarmed,  man  by 
man,  and  handcuffed  as  criminals. 

From  that  moment  to  this  moment,  the  words  "  Spanish 
honor  "  have  meant  in  Texas  "  a  snare  and  a  lie." 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  241 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

AT   SAN   ANTONIO. 

"  Of  all  their  falsehood,  more  could  I  recount, 
But  now  the  bright  sun  'ginneth  to  dismount ; 
And,  for  the  dewy  night  now  doth  draw  nigh, 
I  hold  it  best  for  us  home  to  hie." 

SHEPHERD'S  CALENDAR. 

APRIL  crept  by  at  San  Antonio  ;  but  it  only  crept.  The 
easy  winter-life,  which  was  not  wintry,  passed  into  the  life  of 
what  ought  to  have  been  a  lovely  spring-time  ;  for  not  at 
Nice  or  Genoa,  better  known,  alas,  to  the  average  American 
reader  than  San  Antonio,  can  spring  be  more  lovely  than  it 
is  there.  But  it  was  not  lovely.  Major  Barelo  assured 
Eunice  on  his  honor  that  he  had  no  news  from  Muzquiz's 
force  above.  He  began  to  assure  her,  that,  if  they  had  met 
the  hunters,  he  certainly  should  have  heard  of  it  before  this. 
Miss  Perry  tried  to  believe  this,  and  she  tried  to  make  Inez 
believe  it.  But  still  the  days  hung  heavy.  The  little  enter 
tainments  of  the  garrison  seemed  heartless  and  dull.  What 
was  a  game  at  prison-bounds,  or  a  costume-ball,  or  a  play  of 
Cervantes,  or  a  picnic  at  the  springs,  when  people  did  not 
know  whether  dear  friends  were  alive  or  dead,  or  in  lifelong 
captivity  ?  How  could  one  hunt  for  prairie-flowers,  and 
analyze  them  and  press  them,  when  one  remembered  the 
ride  across  the  prairies,  and  wondered  where  they  were  who 
shared  it? 

Poor  Inez  had  her  own  cause  of  anxiety,  which  burned  all 
the  more  hotly  in  hei  poor  little  heart  because  she  was  too 


«4J  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FXfENDS  ; 

proud  to  speak  of  it,  even  to  Aunt  Eunice.  Where  was 
Will  Harrod  ?  If  he  had  joined  Capt.  Phil  before  Crooked 
Feather  did,  why  had  not  Crooked  Feather  brought  one 
word,  or  message,  or  token  ?  If  he  had  not  joined  Capt. 
Phil  ?  —  that  question  was  even  worse.  Oh,  the  whole  thing 
was  so  hollow !  That  one  should  eat  and  drink  and  sleep, 
should  go  to  balls  and  tertulias  and  reading-parties ;  that 
Lieut.  Gonzales  should  lift  one  into  the  saddle,  and  talk  bad 
English  with  one  for  the  hours  of  a  ride  ;  that  Mr.  Lonsdale 
should  hang  round  all  the  evening,  and  talk  of  every  thing 
but  what  he  was  thinking  of,  and  she  was  thinking  of,  and 
Aunt  Eunice  was  thinking  of,  —  it  was  all  a  horrid  lie,  and  it 
was  terrible. 

White  Hawk  was  her  only  comfort.  Dear  child  !  she  knew 
she  was  her  only  comfort ;  and,  with  exquisite  instincts,  she 
took  upon  her  the  duties  of  a  comforter  without  once  affect 
ing  that  she  took  them.  But  she  could  make  Inez  forget 
herself,  and  she  did.  She  would  spin  out  the  pretty  lessons 
in  writing,  on  which  Inez  had  begun  with  her.  She  would 
lead  her  to  talk  about  the  spelling  tasks  and  the  reading 
lesson,  which  in  Inez's  new-fledged  dignity  as  a  tutor  she  was 
giving.  Then  she  would  play  teacher  in  her  turn.  They 
found  porcupine's  quills ;  and  a  lovely  mess  they  made  of 
things  in  dyeing  them  with  such  decoctions  as  White  Hawk 
invented.  They  embroidered  slippers  for  Eunice,  for  them 
selves,  for  Major  Barelo,  and  for  dear  Aunt  Dolores ;  even 
for  old  Ransom,  they  embroidered  slippers  as  the  winter  and 
spring  went  by.  Inez  was  becoming  a  proficient  in  other 
forms  of  wood-craft.  Ah  me !  if  Will  Harrod  had  come 
back,  she  could  have  talked  to  him  before  the  spring  went 
by,  in  pantomime  quite  as  expressive  as  his  own,  and  far 
more  graceful. 

But  then,  just  when  they  came  back  from  a  tramp  on  the 
beautiful  river-side,  with  old  Ransom  and  one  and  another 
attendant,  laden  down  with  their  roots  and  barks  and  berries, 
and  other  stuff,  —  as  the  old  man  called  it,  —  the  first  sight 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  243 

of  the  garrison  brought  back  the  old  terrible  anxiety.  Inez 
would  rush  to  Aunt  Dolores  or  to  Aunt  Eunice,  and  say,  "  Is 
there  any  news  ? "  as  if  this  happy  valley  was  no  happy  valley 
at  all,  and  as  if  she  could  not  forget  how  far  parted  she  was 
from  the  world. 

Old  Ransom  took  on  himself  to  school  her,  in  his  fashion, 
more  than  her  aunt  thought  wisest. 

"  Een,"  he  said  to  her  one  day  as  they  rode,  "  ye  mus'n' 
take  on  so  much  as  ye  do  for  the  cap'n.  The  cap'n's  all 
right,  he  is.  He  told  me  heself  he  should  be  back  at  the 
river  'fore  March  was  over.  Them  mustangs  ain't  good  for 
nothin'  ef  you  sells  'em  after  May,  'n'  the  cap'n  knew  that's 
well  as  I  did.  'N  he  says,  says  he,  '  Ransom,'  says  he,  '  I 
shall  be  in  Natchez  first  week  in  April.  I  shall  send  two 
hundred  on  'em  down  the  river  to  Orleans  in  flats,'  says  he  j 
'  'n  I  shall  go  across  to  the  Cumberland  River,  through  the 
Creek  country,  with  the  others.'  That's  what  he  says  to  me. 
He  knows  Bowles,  the  Injen  chief  —  always  did  know  lots  of 
the  redskins.  'N  he  says  to  me,  '  I  shall  go  to  the  Cumber 
land  River  to  be  there  'fore  April's  over,  time  for  the  spring 
ploughing.'" 

Every  word  of  this  was  a  lie ;  but  it  was  a  lie  invented 
with  so  kind  an  object,  and,  indeed,  so  well  invented,  that  the 
recording  angel  undoubtedly  dropped  a  tear  of  compassion 
and  regret  commingled,  as  he  wrote  it  down. 

Poor  Inez  tried  to  believe  it  true. 

"You  never  saw  Crooked  Feather  again,  Ransom,  did 
you  ? " 

Ransom  paused.  He  doubted  for  a  moment,  whether  he 
would  not  boldly  create  a  second  conversation  with  Crooked 
Feather,  in  which  that  chief  should  describe  an  interview 
with  William  Harrod.  But  no !  this  was  too  much.  For  the 
old  man  loved  the  truth  in  itself,  and  did  not  ever  intend  to 
swerve  from  it.  What  he  had  said  about  Nolan  and  the 
horses,  he  believed  to  be  the  absolute  truth  of  things.  He 
had  put  it  in  the  form  of  a  conversation  with  Nolan,  because 


244  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

he  could  thus  most  distinctly  make  Inez  apprehend  it,  ba.by 
as  she  was  in  his  estimation  still.  But,  as  to  Harrod,  he 
believed  as  implicitly  that  he  had  been  scalped  within  the 
week  after  he  left  them.  Believing  that,  he  had  no  romance 
to  invent  which  should  restore  him  to  the  world. 

After  a  pause  —  not  infrequent  in  his  colloquies  —  he 
assumed  a  more  didactic  tone.  It  would,  at  another  time, 
have  delighted  Inez  ;  but  now  the  weight  at  her  heart  was 
too  heavy.  Still  she  beckoned  the  White  Hawk  to  come  up 
and  ride  by  their  side ;  and  the  old  man  went  on  with  his 
lecture. 

"  I  never  see  him,  Een,  and  I  never  want  to.  Niggers  is 
bad ;  French  folks  is  bad  ;  English  is  wus ;  and  Spanish  is 
wus  then  them,  by  a  long  sight ;  but  redskins  is  the  wust  on 
'em  all.  They's  lazy,  that's  one  thing;  so  is  niggers.  They's 
fools,  that's  one  thing ;  so  is  the  mounseers.  They's  proud 
as  the  Devil,  that's  one  thing  ;  so  is  the  Englishmen.  They'll 
lie  's  fast  's  they  can  talk :  so'll  the  Spaniards ;  'n'  they'll 
cheat  and  steal,  and  pretend  they  can't  understand  nothin' 
you  say  all  the  time.  They's  a  bad  set.  I  gin  your  old  chief 
(Crooked  Feather  he  said  his  name  was,  but  he  lied  ;  it 
wasn't  —  didn't  have  no  name)  —  I  gin  him  his  sugar,  'n  I 
turned  him  out  of  the  warehouse,  'n  I  told  him  ef  I  ever  see 
him  ag'in,  I'd  thrash  him  within  an  inch  of  his  life.  He  per- 
tended  he  didn't  know  nothin',  'n  that  he  didn't  know  what 
I  meant.  But  he  knew  enough  to  make  tracks,  'n  I  haint 
ever  seen  him  sence,  'n  I  haint  wanted  to,  neyther.  Red 
skins  is  fools  'n  liars  'n  thieves  'n  lazy,  'n  aint  no  good  any 
way." 

Ma-ry  understood  enough  of  this  eulogy  on  her  old  masters 
to  laugh  at  it  thoroughly  :  indeed  she  sympathized,  and  said 
to  Inez,  — 

"  Ma-ry  knows,  yes.  Ransom  knows,  yes.  Crooked 
Feather  bad,  lazy,  steal.  O  Inez,  Inez  !  darling  dear,  all 
bad,  all  lie,  all  steal ; "  and  she  flung  down  her  reins  in  a  wild 
way,  and  just  rested  herself  fearlessly  on  the  other's  shoulder, 


Off,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  245 

and  kissed  her  once  and  again,  as  if  to  bless  her  that  she 
had  taken  her  from  her  old  taskmasters ;  then  she  took  the 
reins  again,  and  made  her  pony  fly  like  the  wind  along  the 
road,  and  return  to  the  party,  as  if  she  must  do  something 
vehement  to  express  her  sense  of  her  escape  from  such  cap 
tivity. 

Thus  Ransom  tried  —  and  tried  not  unsuccessfully  —  to 
turn  Inez's  thoughts  for  a  moment  from  questions  of  Nolan 
and  Harrod. 

But  not  for  a  long  respite.  The  moment  they  passed  the 
gate  of  the  little  wall,  which  in  those  days,  after  a  fashion, 
bounded  the  garrison,  it  was  evident  that  something  had 
transpired.  The  lazy  sentinel  himself  stood  at  his  post  with 
more  of  a  military  air.  On  the  military  plaza  were  groups  of 
men  together,  in  the  wild  gesticulation  of  Spanish  talk, 
where  usually  at  this  hour  no  one  would  be  seen.  Certain 
that  some  news  had  come,  Inez  pushed  her  horse,  and  Ran 
som  in  his  respectful  following,  kept  close  behind  her.  She 
would  not  ask  a  question  of  the  Spanish  officers  whom  they 
dashed  by ;  but  she  fancieH  that  in  their  salute  there  was  an 
air  of  gravity  which  she  had  certainly  never  seen  before,  —  a 
gravity  which  the  sight  of  two  smiling,  pretty  girls,  dashing 
by  at  a  fast  canter,  certainly  would  not  in  itself  have  excited. 

Arrived  in  the  courtyard,  the  excited  girl  swung  herself 
into  Ransom's  arms,  gathered  up  her  dress,  and  rushed  into 
her  aunt's  room.  The  White  Hawk  needed  no  help,  but  left 
her  pony  as  quickly,  and  followed  Inez.  Eunice  was  not 
there  at  the  moment ;  but,  just  as  Inez  had  determined  to  go 
in  search  of  her,  her  aunt  appeared  at  the  door.  Oh,  how 
wretchedly  sad  in  every  line  of  her  face,  and  ir.  the  eyes 
which  looked  so  resolutely  on  poor  Inez  !  The  news  had 
come,  and  it  was  bad  news  ! 

Eunice  gave  one  hand  to  each,  and  led  them  both  into  the 
inner  room.  She  shut  the  door.  She  made  Inez  lie  down. 
Oh,  how  still  she  was  !  and  how  still  they  were  ! 

She  sat  by  the  girl's  side.     She  held  her  hand.     She  even 


146  Pit  I  UP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

stroked  her  forehead  with  the  other,  before  she  could  speak 
At  last,  — 

"  O  my  darling,  my  dearest !  it  is  all  too  true  !  It  is  all 
over." 

Inez  was  on  her  elbow,  looking  straight  into  her  eyes. 

"  Inez,  my  darling,  they  met;  they  found  him  only  the  day 
after  he  wrote  to  us.  They  fought  him  —  the  wretches  —  ten 
to  his  one.  They  killed  him.  They  have  taken  all  the  others 
prisoners  ;  and  they  are  all  to  go  to  the  mines,  to  slave  there 
till  the  king  shall  send  word  to  have  them  killed.  O  my  dar 
ling,  my  child !  " 

Inez  looked  her  still  in  the  face. 

"  Who  else  is  killed  ?    Tell  me  all,  dear  aunt,  tell  me  all ! " 

"  My  darling,  O  my  darling!  I  cannot  hear  that  anybodv 
but  Nolan  was  killed.  They  killed  him  at  their  first  fire,  and 
he  never  spoke  again.  Dear,  dear  fellow  !  oh,  what  will  his 
little  wife  say  or  do  ? " 

It  was  the  first  time  that  in  words  Eunice  had  ever  told 
Inez  that  Nolan  had  married  the  pretty  Fanny  Lintot,  whose 
picture  Inez  had  seen.  In  truth,  he  had  married  her  just 
before  he  left  Natchez. 

"They  say  they  took  our  people  prisoners  on  terms  of 
unconditional  surrender.  Inez,  they  say  what  is  not  true. 
Will  Harrod,  and  all  those  men  with  Nolan,  would  have  died 
before  they  would  have  been  marched  to  the  mines.  But, 
my  darling,  I  have  told  you  all  I  know." 

"There  is  no  word  from — from  —  from  Capt.  Harrod?" 
asked  Inez,  finding  it  hard  to  speak  his  name  even  now. 

"  Oh !  no  word  for  us  from  anybody.  There  is  only  a 
bragging  despatch  with  'God  preserve  Your  Excellency  many 
years,'  from  this  coward  of  a  Muzquiz,  —  this  man  who  takes 
an  army  to  hunt  a  soldier.  Why,  I  should  have  thought  he 
had  met  Bonaparte  hand  to  hand ! 

"  The  Major  sent  for  me.  He  is  so  kind  !  And  dear  Do 
lores —  oh,  she  is  lovely.  He  told  me  all  he  knew.  He 
promised  to  tell  me  all.  Perhaps  the  prisoners  will  come 
this  way :  then  we  shall  know. 


OR,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS*"  247 

"  But  what  a  wretch  I  am !  I  have  been  playing  and 
hoping  so  that  I  might  break  it  to  you  gently ;  and  I  have 
only  poured  out  my  whole  story  without  one  thought.  Dear, 
dear  Inez,  forgive  me  ! " 

She  was  beside  herself  with  excitement.  In  truth,  of  the 
two,  Inez  seemed  more  calm.  But  she  was,  oh,  so  deadly 
pale !  She  tried  to  speak.  No  !  she  could  not  say  a  word. 
She  opened  her  lips,  but  no  sound  would  come.  Nay,  even 
the  tears  would  not  come.  She  looked  up  —  she  looked 
around.  She  saw  dear  Ma-ry,  her  eyes  flooded  with  tears, 
her  whole  eager  face  alive  with  her  sorrow  and  her  sympathy. 
Inez  flung  herself  into  her  arms  ;  and  the  tears  flowed  as  she 
sobbed  and  sobbed  and  sobbed  upon  her  shoulder. 

Eunice  told  Inez  that  Major  Barelo  had  told  her  all.  She 
thought  he  had.  The  loyal  Spanish  gentleman  had  kept  his 
secret  well. 

He  had  not  told  her  all.  The  bragging  despatch  from 
Muzquiz  had  been  accompanied  with  a  little  parcel.  This 
parcel  contained  the  ears  of  Philip  Nolan !  The  chivalrous 
Muzquiz,  the  representative  of  the  Most  Catholic  King, 
had  cut  off  the  ears  of  the  dead  hero,  to  send  them  in  token 
of  victory  to  the  governor ! 

So  low  had  sunk  the  chivalry  which  in  the  days  of  Lobeira 
gave  law  to  the  courtesy  of  the  world  ! 

Of  this  accompaniment  to  the  despatch,  Barelo  had  said 
nothing  to  Eunice  Perry ;  nor  did  she  know  it  till  she  died. 

We  know  it  from  the  despatch  in  which  the  Castilian  chief 
announces  it. 


PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIRND* 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

"I   MUST  GO  HOME." 

"  Now  with  a  general  peace  the  world  was  blest ; 
While  ours,  a  world  divided  from  the  rest, 
A  dreadful  quiet  felt,  and,  worser  far 
Than  arms,  a  sullen  interval  of  war  : 
Thus  when  black  clouds  draw  down  the  laboring  skies, 
Ere  yet  abroad  the  winged  thunder  flies, 
A  horrid  stillness  first  invades  the  ear, 
And  in  that  silence  we  the  tempest  fear." 

Asirtea  Redux. 

POOR  Inez  !     Poor  Eunice  ! 

They  kept  their  grief  to  themselves  as  best  they  could. 
But  every  one  in  the  garrison  circle  knew  there  was  a  grief 
to  keep,  though  no  one,  not  even  Donna  Maria,  suspected 
the  whole  of  it,  and  no  one  'could  quite  account  for  the  depth 
of  the  ladies'  interest  in  the  freebooters.  Eunice  said  boldly 
that  it  would  prove  to  be  all  a  mistake,  which  De  Nava  and 
Salcedo  would  surely  regret.  That  Mr.  Nolan  was  an 
accomplished  gentleman,  they  all  knew,  for  he  had  visited 
Antonio  again  and  again :  he  had  danced  in  their  parties, 
and  dined  at  their  tables.  She  said  he  was  Gayoso's  friend, 
and  Casa  Calvo's  friend,  and  that  they  were  not  the  men 
she  took  them  for,  if  they  did  not  resent  such  interference 
from  another  province.  She  said  boldly,  that  there  would 
have  to  be  some  public  statement  now,  whether  the  King  of 
Spain  meant  to  protect  his  subjects  in  Louisiana  against 
other  subjects  in  Mexico.  So  far  Eunice  carried  talk  with  a 
high  spirit,  because  she  would  gladly  give  the  impression,  in 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  249 

the  garrison  circle,  that  she  and  Inez  were  wounded  with  a 
sense  of  what  may  be  called  provincial  pride.  The  inhospi- 
tality  exercised  toward  Nolan  to-day  might  be  exercised  to 
ward  them  to-morrow. 

But,  while  Eunice  Perry  took  this  high  tone  in  the  long 
morning  talks  of  the  ladies,  her  own  heart  was  sick  with  the 
secret  her  brother  had  confided  to  her.  She  knew  that 
Orleans  and  Louisiana  were  Spanish  only  in  name.  Did  not 
De  Nava  and  Salcedo  know  this  also  ?  Was  not  this  bold 
dash  against  Nolan  the  first  declaration  of  the  indifference 
of  Spanish  commanders  to  all  directions  from  Louisiana, 
now  Louisiana  was  French  again  ?  And,  if  it  were  so,  ought 
not  Eunice  Perry  be  looking  toward  getting  her  white  doves 
to  their  own  shelter  again  as  soon  as  might  be  ? 

She  determined,  not  unwisely,  to  confide  to  Ransom  the 
great  secret  of  state  which  her  brother  had  intrusted  to  her. 
In  doing  this,  she  knew  she  would  not  displease  Silas  Perry, 
who  would  have  told  Ransom  within  a  minute  after  he  had 
heard  it,  for  the  mere  convenience  of  not  having  to  perplex 
himself  by  hiding  from  his  ri:;ht  hand  what  affected  both 
hands  every  moment. 

Eunice  was  not  displeased  that  for  once  she  could  take  the 
old  man  by  surprise.  She  chose,  as  she  was  wont  to  do  for 
private  conferences,  a  chance  when  they  were  riding ;  for, 
while  the  old  stone  walls  of  the  garrison  might  have  ears,  the 
river,  the  prairie,  and  the  mesquits  had  none. 

"  Ransom,  you  know  why  all  (he  people  in  Orleans  speak 
French  ? " 

"  They's  French  folks,  all  on  'em,  mum,  they  is.  Them 
Spaniards  is  nothin'  Ain't  real  Spanish,  none  on  'em. 
Gayoso,  he'd  lived  in  England  all  his  life.  This  one  has  to 
talk  French.  Sham-Spanish  all  on  'em,  they  is." 

"  Yes,  Ransom,  the  King  of  Spain  sends  over  officers  who 
speak  French,  because  the  people  are  French  peop'e." 

"  Yes'm,  all  French  folks  once ;  had  French  governors. 
Awful  times,  wen  your  brother  fust  come  there,  —  when  they 


250  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

tried  to  send  the  Spanish  governor  packing,  —  good  enough 
for  him,  too.  He  caught  'em  and  hanged  'em  all  —  darned 
old  rascal,  he  did.  Awful  times  !  He  was  a  Paddy,  he  was  \ 
darned  old  rascal  1 " 

"  Yes,  Ransom,  and  a  very  cruel  thing  it  was.  Well,  now, 
Ransom,  the  King  of  Spain  is  frightened ;  and  he  has  given 
Orleans  back,  and  all  the  country,  to  the  French." 

"  Guess  not,  Miss  Eunice !  "  said  the  old  man  quickly, 
really  surprised  this  time. 

•'  Yes,  Ransom,  there  is  no  doubt  of  it ;  but  it  is  a  great 
secret.  The  French  general  told  my  brother,  and  he  bade 
me  tell  no  one  but  you  and  Inez.  Do  not  let  these  people 
dream  of  it  here." 

"  No,  marm,  and  they  don't  know  it  now.  Ef  they  knew 
it,  I  should  know.  They  don't  know  nothin'."  Ransom 
said  all  this  slowly,  with  long  pauses  between  the  sentences. 
But  Eunice  could  see  that  he  was  pleased,  —  yes,  well  pleased 
with  the  announcement.  His  eyes  looked,  like  a  prophet's, 
far  into  the  distance  before  him  ;  and  his  face  slowly  beamed 
with  a  well-satisfied  smile,  as  if  he  had  himself  conducted 
the  great  negotiation. 

"  Good  thing,  Miss  Perry !  guess  it's  a  good  thing.  Mr. 
Perry  did  not  go  for  nothin'.  Them  French  don't  know 
nothin'.  King  of  Spain,  darned  fool,  he  don't  know  nothin'. 
Ye  brother  had  to  go  'n  tell  'em." 

"  No,  Ransom,  I  do  not  think  my  brother  told  them.  But 
he  says  he  is  glad  to  belong  to  the  side  that  always  wins." 

"  Guess  Mr.  Perry  told  'em,  ma'am,"  was  Ransom's  fixed 
reply.  "  They's  all  fools  —  don't  know  nothin'." 

Eunice  had  made  her  protest,  and  did  not  renew  it.  She 
knew  she  should  never  persuade  the  old  man  that  he  and 
Silas  Perry  together  did  not  manage  all  those  affairs  in  the 
universe  which  were  managed  well. 

"  My  brother  is  well  pleased,  Ransom,  and  so  is  Roland. 
Roland  is  quite  a  friend  of  Gen.  Bonaparte." 

"  Yes'm,  this  man  always  wins.     Say  his  soldiers  cum  over 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  251 

here  to  learn  fightin'.  Say  Gen.  Washington  had  to  show 
'em  how.  Say  Roshimbow's  comin'  over  to  the  islands  now 
I  knew  that  one,  Roshimbow,  myself ;  held  his  hoss  for  him 
one  day,  down  to  Pomfert  meetin'-house,  when  he  stopped  to 
get  suthin  to  drink  at  the  tavern.  Gen.  Washington  was 
showin'  him  about  fightin'  then,  and  so  was  old  Gen.  Knox, 
and  Col.  Greaton ;  and  now  he's  been  tellin'  this  other  one. 
That's  the  way  they  knows  how  to  do  it.  French  is  nothin' ; 
don't  know  nothin.'  This  other  one,  he's  an  Eyetalian." 

"  This  other  one,"  who  thus  received  the  art  of  war  at 
second-hand  from  Col.  Greaton  of  the  Massachusetts  line, 
and  from  George  Washington,  was  the  person  better  known 
in  history  as  Napoleon  Bonaparte. 

"  Ransom,  if  there  is  one  whisper  of  war  between  France 
and  Spain,  we  must  get  back  to  Orleans.  I  am  sure  I  do 
not  know  how.  Or  if  there  is  war  between  England  and 
France  again,  or  between  England  and  Spain.  Indeed,  I 
wonder  sometimes  that  we  ever  came ;  but  we  acted  for  the 
best." 

She  hardly  knew  that  he  was  by  her,  as  she  fell  back  on 
these  anxieties.  But  it  was  just  as  well.  The  old  man  was 
as  sympathetic  as  her  mother  would  have  been. 

"  I  should  not  be  troubled,  mum.  It's  peace  now,  and  the 
major  here  thinks  it's  like  to  be.  So  does  the  gov'nor  and 
the  general.  Heerd  'em  say  so  yesterday.  It's  peace  now, 
and  it's  like  to  be."  Here  a  long  pause.  "  Ain't  no  cause 
to  be  troubled.  Miss  Inez  liked  the  ride  comin',  and  she'll 
like  it  goin'.  There's  two  or  three  of  the  Greasers  here  will 
go  where  I  tell  'em,  and  three  of  the  niggers  too,  ef  you  don't 
like  to  ask  him  for  soldiers.  Shouldn't  take  no  trouble  about 
it.  When  you  want  to  go,  ma'am,  we'll  go.  I'll  tell  'em  the 
king  sent  word  we  was  to  go."  And  his  own  smile  showed 
that  he  was  not  displeased  at  the  prospect  of  leaving  behind 
him  a  community  which  he  held  in  deeper  scorn  than  the 
Orleans  which  he  loved  while  he  despised. 

"  I  hope  we  may  not  ,have  to  go,  Ransom  ;  but  you  must 


252  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

keep  your  eyes  open  and  your  ears,  and  we  trill  be  ready  to 
go  at  an  hour's  warning." 

"  Yes'm,  the  sooner  the  better." 

The  truth  was,  that  the  signal  came  sooner  than  Eunice 
expected,  and  in  a  way  as  bad  as  the  worst  that  she  had 
feared.  Late  in  the  afternoon  of  a  sultry  day  in  June,  —  a 
day  which  had  been  pronounced  too  hot  for  riding,  —  the 
ladies  had  just  returned  from  a  bath  in  the  river,  and  were 
not  in  full  costume,  when  a  clamor  and  excitement  swept 
among  the  garrison,  and,  in  spite  of  Major  Barelo's  precau 
tions  and  the  Donna  Maria's,  made  way  even  into  the  rooms 
of  the  American  ladies.  The  White  Hawk  ran  out  to  recon 
noitre  and  inquire. 

A  band  of  Spanish  troopers,  with  great  fanfarons  of  trum 
pets,  and  even  with  little  Moorish  drums,  came  riding  into 
the  plaza,  and  in  the  midst,  with  a  troop  behind  as  well  as 
before,  a  little  company  of  eleven  bearded  men,  dirty  and 
ragged,  heavily  ironed  lest  they  might  leap  from  their  horses, 
and,  without  arms,  overthrow  a  hundred  Spanish  cavalry. 
These  were  the  American  prisoners.  They  had  been  kept 
a  month  at  Nacogdoches,  listening  to  lies  about  their  release, 
and  at  last  were  on  their  way  to  Chihuahua  and  the  mines. 

The  White  Hawk,  with  her  usual  indifference  to  regula 
tions,  walked  right  down  to  this  wretched  coffle,  and  in  a 
minute  recognized  Blackburn,  who  had  seen  her  at  Nacog 
doches.  Without  attempting  a  word  of  English,  she  asked 
him  in  pantomime  where  Harrod  was,  for  the  girl  saw  that 
he  was  not  in  the  number.  Blackburn  did  not  conceal  his 
surprise.  He  had  taken  it  for  granted,  as  they  all  had,  that 
Harrod  and  the  others  had  been  held  by  the  Spaniards.  He 
told  the  girl,  in  gestures  which  she  perfectly  understood,  that 
they  had  never  seen  Harrod,  nor  King,  nor  Adams,  nor 
Richards,  since,  with  old  Caesar,  he  parted  from  them  in  the 
autumn. 

Then  she  ventured  on  the  further  question,  to  which,  alas ! 
she  knew  the  answer,  —  Where  was  Capt.  Nolan  ?  Ah,  me  ! 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  253 

the  poor  fellow  could  only  confirm  the  cruel  news  of  two 
months  before.  His  quick  gesture  showed  where  the  fatal 
shot  struck,  and  how  sudden  was  his  death.  Then  he  told, 
in  a  minute  more,  that  all  this  was  but  the  morning  after 
Crooked  Feather  left  them.  He  called  her  to  him,  and  bade 
her  stroke  his  horse's  neck,  and  lie  close  against  his  fore-leg 
as  she  did  so.  She  was  as  quick  and  stealthy  as  a  savage 
would  have  been  in  obeying  him ;  and  in  an  instant  more  she 
was  rewarded.  He  slid  into  her  hand,  under  the  rough 
mane,  the  little  prayer-book  which  Eunice  had  sent  to  Nolan. 
Blackburn  himself  had  taken  it  from  his  leader's  body  when 
they  buried  him ;  and  though,  Heaven  knows,  he  had  been 
stripped  and  plundered  once  and  again  since,  so  that  noth 
ing  else  was  left  him  that  he  could  call  his  own,  the  plun 
derers  were  men  who  had  a  certain  fear  of  prayer-books,  — 
if  it  were  fear  which  reverenced,  —  and,  for  good  reasons 
and  for  bad,  they  had  left  him  this  and  this  alone. 

"  Come  again !  Come  again !  "  said  the  White  Hawk 
fearlessly ;  and  she  hurried  away  from  the  troop,  with  the 
news  she  had  collected.  In  a  minute  more  she  had  joined 
the  ladies. 

"  Troopers  come  —  Ma-ry  —  Ma-ry  —  troopers.  Nolan's 
men  come, — five,  five,  one  !"  and  she  held  up  her  fingers. 
"Poor  men!  they  are  all— what  you  call  —  iron  —  iron  — 
here,  here  —  on  hands  —  on  feet.  Blackburn  come  :  me 
talk  to  Blackburn,  Blackburn  tell  all.  Darling,  darling,  Will 
Harrod  never  found  them  !  Will  Harrod  never  saw  them  ! 
O  darling,  darling  dear !  Will  Harrod  all  safe,  —  all  gone 
home,  —  Orleans,  —  darling,  darling  dear  !  " 

"  Who  says  he's  safe  ? "  cried  poor  Inez,  starting  to  her 
feet. 

"  Me  say  so,  —  me  say  he  never  saw  Nolan,  —  never  saw 
Blackburn.  Blackburn  said  he  was  here.  Blackburn  won 
der  very,  very  much,  Will  Harrod  not  here.  Blackburn  tell 
me, —  tell  me  now, — Will  Harrod  never  come,  King  never 
come,  Adams  never  come,  Richards  never  come.  Blackbum 


a$4  PHILI*>  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

say  all  here.  Nobody  come  but  old  Caesar  and  Blackburn. 
Old  Caesar  here  now :  me  see  old  Caesar." 

Inez  had  fallen  back  when  she  saw  that  Harrod's  safety 
was  only  the  White  Hawk's  guess.  But  now  she  started. 

"Dear,  dear  old  Caesar  !  let  me  go  see  him  too  ; "  and  they 
ran.  But  the  prisoners  had  already  been  led  away ;  and 
there  needed  formal  applications  to  Barelo  —  and  who 
should  say  to  whom  else  ?  —  before  they  could  talk  with  the 
poor  old  fellow. 

To  such  applications,  however,  Barelo  was  in  no  sort  deaf. 
If  he  had  dared,  and  if  there  had  not  been  twenty  or 
thirty  days'  hard  travel  to  the  frontier,  he  would  have  given 
permits  enough  to  Ransom  and  Miss  Perry  and  Mile.  Inez 
and  the  White  Hawk  to  have  set  every  one  of  the  "  bearded 
men  "  free  ;  he  would  have  made  a  golden  bridge  for  them 
to  escape  by ;  for  Major  Barelo  could  and  did  read  the  fu 
ture.  This  was  impossible.  But  old  Ransom  daily,  and  one 
or  other  of  the  ladies,  saw  the  prisoners,  and,  while  they 
could,  ministered  to  their  wants. 

White  Hawk's  first  story  was  entirely  confirmed.  Neither 
of  the  escort  of  the  ladies  had  ever  been  seen  on  the  Tocko- 
wakono  or  Upper  Brasses.  The  men  thought  they  had  de 
serted,  and  gone  back  to  Natchez ;  but  Inez  of  course,  and 
Eunice,  knew  that  Harrod  had  never  deserted  his  friend. 

"  No !  the  Apaches  have  him,  or  the  Comanches." 

"  They  had  him  !  they  had  him,  Eunice  !  But  they  keep 
no  prisoners  alive !  "  and,  in  a  paroxysm  of  weeping,  Inez  fell 
on  her  aunt's  lap  ;  and  the  pretended  secret  of  her  heart  was 
a  secret  no  longer  to  either  of  them. 

It  was  Inez's  wretchedness,  perhaps,  which  wore  more  and 
more  on  Eunice  as  the  summer  crept  by.  Perhaps  it  was  the 
wretchedness  of  the  miserable  handful  of  men  kept  in  close 
confinement  at  Antonio.  Month  after  month  this  captivity 
continued.  More  and  more  doubtful  were  Cordero's  and  Her- 
rara's  words,  when  Eunice  forced  them,  as  she  would  force 
them,  to  speak  of  the  chances  of  liberation.  As  September 


OR    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  255 

passed  there  came  one  of  the  flying  rumors  from  oelow,  of 
which  no  man  knew  the  authority,  that  the  King  of  Spain 
had  quarrelled  with  the  French  Republic.  This  rumor  gave 
Eunice  new  ground  for. anxiety  as  to  her  position  ;  and  she 
was  well  disposed  to  yield,  when  Inez  one  night  broke  all  re 
serve,  and,  after  one  of  the  endless  talks  about  the  mysteries 
and  miseries  around  them,  cried  out  in  her  agony, — 
"  I  must  go  home  I  * 


256  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

COUNTERMARCH. 

"  Berenice.  —  Tis  done  1 
Deep  in  your  heart  you  wish  me  to  be  gone ; 
And  I  depart.    Yes,  I  depart  to-day. 
—!•'  Linger  a  little  longer  ? '     Wherefore  stay  ? 
To  be  the  laughing-stock  of  high  and  low  ? 
To  hear  a  people  gossip  for  my  woe  ? 
While  tidings  such  as  these  my  peace  destroy, 
To  see  my  sorrows  feed  the  common  joy  ? 
Why  should  I  stay  ?    To-night  shall  see  me  gone." 

RACINE. 

EUNICE  slept  upon  the  girl?s  ejaculation;  and  the  next 
morning  she  was  determined.  She  went  at  once  to  her 
brother's  brother-in-law,  and  said  to  him  that  their  visit  had 
lasted  nearly  a  year,  that  the  very  circumstance  impended  by 
which  her  brother  had  limited  it,  and  that  frankly  she  must 
ask  him  for  such  escort  as  he  could  give  her  to  Natchitoches. 
Once  at  Natchitoches,  she  would  trust  herself  to  her  own 
servants'  care,  as  they  should  float  down  the  Red  River. 

The  major  was  careworn,  evidently  disliked  to  approach 
the  subject ;  but,  with  the  courtesy  of  a  host  and  of  a  true 
gentleman,  tried  to  dissuade  her.  He  asked  her  why  a 
breeze  between  Bonaparte  and  his  sovereign  should  affect 
two  ladies  in  the  heart  of  America.  Was  this  affectation  ? 
Had  he  heard  that  Louisiana  was  to  be  French  again  ?  Did 
he  want  to  come  at  her  secrets  ? 

Eunice  looked  him  bravely  in  the  eye  before  she  answered. 
She  satisfied  herself  that  he  was  sincere ;  that  he  did  not 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS,"  257 

know  that  great  state  secret  which  had  been  intrusted  to  her, 
and  which  would  so  easily  explain  her  anxiety. 

"  I  do  not  know  when  my  brother  will  sail  on  his  return. 
Suppose  the  First  Consul  of  France  chooses  to  say  that  he 
shall  not  return  ?  " 

"  Then  your  niece  will  be  here  under  the  protection  of  her 
nearest  American  relations." 

"  Suppose  Gen.  Victor,  with  this  fine  French  army  of 
which  you  tell  me,  passes  by  St.  Domingo,  and  lights  upon 
Orleans.  How  long  will  my  friend  Casa  Calvo  defend  that 
city,  with  a  French  people  behind  him,  and  a  French  army 
and  fleet  before  him  ?  " 

"  He  will  defend  it  quite  as  long  without  the  a;d  of  the 
Miles.  Perry  as  with,"  was  Barelo's  grave  reply,  made  as 
if  this  contingency  were  not  new  to  his  imaginings. 

"  And  if  my  brother  and  my  nephew  be  with  Gen.  Victor, 
if  they  land  in  Orleans,  surely  they  will  expect  to  find  us 
there,"  said  poor  Eunice  quite  too  eagerly. 

"  My  dear  sister,"  said  the  Spanish  gentleman  gravely, 
"  do  not  let  us  argue  a  matter  of  which  we  know  so  little.  I 
am  only  anxious  to  do  what  you  wish  :  only  I  must  justify 
myself  to  Don  Silas  Perry,  in  event  of  any  misfortune.  I 
cannot  think  that  he  would  approve  of  my  sending  you  two 
ladies  into  a  scene  of  war." 

"  Then  you  believe  that  war  impends  !  "  cried  Eunice,  more 
anxious  than  ever.  "  My  dear,  dear  brother,  what  madness  it 
was  that  we  ever  came  !  " 

This  was  not  a  satisfactory  beginning.  It  was  the  deter 
mination,  however,  as  it  happened,  of  the  route  which  the 
little  party  took,  and  took  soon,  —  by  one  of  those  chances 
wholly  unhoped  for  when  Eunice  approached  the  major. 
On  the  very  afternoon  of  that  day,  the  monotony  of  the 
garrison  life,  which  had  become  so  hateful  to  both  the  ladies, 
was  broken  up  by  the  arrival  of  an  unexpected  party.  Mr. 
Lonsdale  had  returned,  with  a  rather  cumbrous  group  of 
hunters,  guides,  grooms,  and  attendants  without  a  r  ame,  with 


258  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

whom  he  had  made  a  long  excursion  to  the  mines  of  Potosi. 
The  arrival  of  so  large  a  party  was  a  great  event  in  the 
garrison. 

Greatly  to  the  surprise  of  Miss  Perry  and  her  niece,  who 
had  excused  themselves  from  a  little  re-union  which  called 
together  most  of  the  garrison  ladies,  a  visitor  was  announced, 
and  Mr.  Lonsdale  presented  himself.  Inez  was  fairly  caught, 
and,  at  the  moment,  could  not  escape  from  the  room,  as  she 
would  have  done  gladly.  She  satisfied  herself  by  receiving 
him  very  formally,  and  then  by  sitting  behind  him  and  making 
menacing  gestures,  which  could  not  be  seen  by  him,  but  could 
be  seen  perfectly  by  her  aunt  and  Ma-ry.  With  such  assist 
ance  Eunice  Perry  carried  on  the  conversation  alone. 

With  some  assistance,  he  was  fired  up  to  tell  the  story  of 
what  he  and  his  party  had  done,  and  what  they  had  not  done  ; 
to  tell  how  silver  was  mined,  and  what  was  a  "  conducta." 
He  told  of  skirmishes  with  Indians,  in  which  evidently  he 
had  borne  himself  with  all  the  courage  of  his  nation,  and  of 
which  he  spoke  with  all  the  modesty  of  a  gentleman.  But,  as 
soon  as  Eunice  paused  at  all,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  as  his  wont  was, 
shifted  the  subject,  and  compelled  her  to  talk  of  herself  and 
her  own  plans.  Not  one  allusion  to  poor  Nolan  :  that  was 
too  sad.  But,  of  American  politics,  many  questions ;  of  the 
politics  of  the  world,  more.  Who  was  this  man,  and  why  was 
he  here  ? 

"  When  I  was  in  Philadelphia  and  New  York  they  called 
Mr.  Jefferson  the  pacific  candidate.  Will  he  prove  to  be  the 
pacific  president  ? " 

"  You  more  than  I  know,  Mr.  Lonsdale.  It  was  President 
Adams  who  made  peace  with  the  First  Consul." 

"I  know  that,  and  I  know  the  Miles.  Perry  are  good 
Federalists."  Here  he  attempted  to  turn  to  see  Inez,  and 
almost  detected  her  doubling  her  fist  behind  his  back.  "  I 
had  a  long  talk  with  Mr.  Jefferson,  but  I  could  not  get  at  his 
mews  or  convictions." 

"He  would  hardly  mention  them  to  a  —  to  any  but  ai 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  259 

intimate  friend,"  said  Eunice  rather  stiffly,  while  Inez  repre 
sented  herself  as  scalping  the  Englishman. 

"  No,  no  !  of  course  not !  Yet  I  wish  I  knew.  I  wish 
any  man  knew  if  the  First  Consul  means  war  or  peace  with 
England,  or  war  or  peace  with  America." 

Eunice  saw  no  harm  here  in  saying  what  she  knew. 

"  Gen.  Bonaparte  means  peace  with  America,  my  brother 
says  and  believes.  My  nephew  has  been  intimate  at  Mal- 
maison,  and  my  brother  has  seen  the  First  Consul  with  great 
advantages.  He  thinks  him  a  man  of  the  rarest  genius  for 
war  or  for  peace.  He  is  sure  that  his  policy  is  peace  with 
us,  —  with  America  I  mean." 

"  You  amaze  me,"  said  Mr.  Lonsdale.  "  I  supposed  this 
general  was  one  more  popinjay  like  the  others,  —  a  brag  and 
a  bluster.  I  supposed  his  history  was  to  be  strung  on  the 
same  string  with  that  of  all  these  men." 

And  in  saying  this  Lonsdale  did  but  say  what  almost  every 
Englishman  of  his  time  said  and  believed.  Nothing  is  more 
droll,  now  it  is  all  over,  than  a  study  of  the  English  caricatures 
of  that  day,  as  they  contrast  "  the  best  of  kings  "  and  "  the 
Corsican  adventurer."  How  pitiless  history  chooses  to  be ! 

In  one  of  these  caricatures,  George  III.  figures  as  Gulliver, 
and  "  Gen.  Buonaparte "  is  the  King  of  Liliput ! 

Eunice  could  well  afford  to  be  frank  at  this  time,  whether 
Lonsdale  were  Conolly,  Chisholm,  Bowles,  or  any  other  Eng 
lish  spy. 

"  My  last  letters  from  my  brother  are  very  late.  He  was 
certain  then  of  peace  between  England  and  France ;  and  of 
this  I  have  spoken  freely  here." 

Lonsdale  certainly  was  thrown  off  guard.  His  whole  face 
lighted  up  with  pleasure. 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  are  you  sure  ?  Let  me  shake  hands  with 
you,  Miss  Perry.  This  is  indeed  almost  too  good  to  be 
true ! " 

Eunice  gave  him  her  hand,  and  said,  — 

"  Let  us  hope  the  new  century  is  to  be  the  century  of 


26o  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

peace,  indeed.  Shall  we  drink  that  toast  in  a  glass  of  rain 
water  ? "  and,  at  a  sign  from  her,  the  White  Hawk  brought 
him  a  glass  of  pure  water  from  a  Moorish-looking  jar  of 
unglazed  clay. 

"  Ma-ry,  my  dear  child,"  said  the  Englishman  slowly,  with 
the  tears  fairly  standing  in  his  eyes,  "  do  you  know  what 
comes  to  those  who  give  others  a  cup  of  cold  water  ?  " 

Eunice  had  never  seen  such  depth  of  feeling  on  his  face 
or  in  his  manner ;  and  even  Inez  was  hushed  to  something 
serious. 

As  he  put  down  the  glass,  he  passed  Miss  Perry,  and  in  a 
low  tone  he  said,  — 

"  May  I  speak  with  you  alone  ?  " 

Eunice,  without  hesitation,  sent  the  girls  to  bed.  Who 
was  this  man,  and  what  did  he  come  for  ? 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Perry,  you  know  of  course  how  much 
you  can  trust  of  what  is  secret,  in  this  cursed  web  of  secrets, 
to  our  young  friends.  You  may  call  them  back,  if  you  please. 
You  may  tell  them  every  word  I  tell  you.  But  I  supposed  it 
more  prudent  to  speak  to  you  alone.  As  I  came  across  the 
Rio  Grande  I  learned,  and  am  sure,  that  Gov.  Salcedo  has 
gone  to  Orleans.  That  means  something." 

Of  course  it  did.  The  transfer  of  Salcedo  to  the  govern 
ment  of  Louisiana  must  mean  more  stringent  and  suspicious 
government  of  Orleans.  Did  it  mean  war  with  America? 
Did  it  mean  war  with  France  ? 

"  I  thought,"  continued  the  taciturn  Englishman,  stumbling 
again  now,  "  I  thought  —  I  was  sure  —  you  should  know 
this ;  and  I  doubted  if  our  friends  here  would  tell  you.  In 
your  place,  such  news  would  take  me  home  ;  and  therefore  I 
hurried  here  to  tell  you.  We  made  short  work  from  the 
river,  I  assure  you." 

"  How  good  you  are ! "  said  Eunice  frankly,  and  smiling 
even  in  her  wonder  why  this  impassive  Englishman,  this  spy 
of  Lord  Dorchester  or  of  Lord  Hawksbury,  should  care  foi 
her  journey. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  261 

"  How  good  you  are.  You  are  ver)  right.  Yet  to  think 
that  I  should  want  to  go  nearer  to  that  brute  Sa  Icedo !  For 
really  I  believe  it  is  he,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  it  is  he  who  murdered 
our  friend.  But  I  do  —  I  do  want  to  go  home.  Oh !  why 
did  I  come  ?  I  asked  my  brother  that  this  morning." 

"The  past  is  the  past,  dear  Miss  Perry.  Your  question 
is  not,  Why  did  you  come  ?  but,  How  shall  you  go  ? " 

"  And  how  indeed  ?  "  said  she  sadly.  "  My  brother  vir 
tually  refuses  me  an  escort.  I  do  not  know  why.  He  wants 
to  keep  us  here." 

"  Major  Barelo  hates,  dreads,  despises,  this  Salcedo,  — 
this  cruel,  vindictive,  'moribund  old  man,'  as  I  overheard 
him  say  one  day,  —  as  heartily  as  you  do,  or  as  I  do.  But, 
all  the  same,  he  is  a  soldier.  De  Nava  or  Salcedo  may  have 
ordered  every  man  to  be  kept  at  this  post,  or  within  this 
intendancy." 

"  They  have  ordered  something,"  said  Eunice ;  and  she 
mused.  Then  frankly,  "  Oh,  Mr.  Lonsdale  1  you  are  a  diplo 
matist  :  I  am  a  woman.  You  know  how  to  manage  men :  for 
me,  I  do  not  know  how  to  manage  these  two  girls.  They 
manage  me,"  and  she  smiled  faintly.  "  Forget  you  are  an 
official,  and  for  twenty-four  hours  think  and  see  what  an 
English  gentleman  can  do  for  a  friend." 

She  even  rose  from  her  chair  in  her  excitement :  she 
looked  him  straight  in  the  face,  as  he  remembered  her  doing 
once  before ;  and  she  gave  him  her  hand  loyally. 

Lonsdale  was  clearly  surprised. 

"  Why  you  call  me  a  diplomatist,  I  do  not  know.  That  I 
am  a  gentleman,  this  you  shall  see.  Miss  Perry,  I  came  into 
this  room,  only  to  offer  what  you  ask.  Because  the  offer 
must  be  secret  if  you  decline  it,  I  asked  you  to  send  the 
young  ladies  away." 

Then  he  told  her  that  he  had  reason  to  believe,  —  he  said 
no  more  than  that,  —  he  had  "reason  to  believe"  that  a  little 
tender  to  an  English  frigate  would  be  hanging  off  and  on  at 
Corpus  Christi  Bay,  on  the  coast  below  San  Antonio.  He 


262  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

knew  the  commander  of  this  little  vessel,  and  he  knew  he 
would  comply  with  his  wishes  in  an  exigency.  Wherever  the 
"  Firefly  "  might  be,  her  boats  could  push  well  up  the  river. 

"  Your  brother  will  give  you  escort  in  this  command,  with 
out  the  slightest  hesitation  ;  and,  once  on  a  king's  vessel, 
you  need  no  more,"  he  said  eagerly. 

Eunice  was  surprised  indeed. 

"  Could  we  wait  for  her,  down  yonder  on  the  shore  ?  What 
would  these  girls  do  in  such  a  wilderness  ?  " 

"  There  will  be  no  waiting,"  he  said  quietly  but  firmly. 
"  The  moment  I  suspected  your  danger,  —  I  beg  your  pardon, 
your  anxiety,  —  I  sent  two  of  my  best  men  down  the  coast 
to  signal  Drapier.  His  boats  will  be  at  La  Bahia  if  you 
determine  to  go.  They  will  be  there,  on  the  chance  of  your 
determining." 

"  Mr.  Lonsdale !  how  can  I  thank  you  ?  I  do  thank  you, 
and  you  know  I  do.  Let  me  call  Ransom.  Major  Barelo 
shall  give  us  the  escort ;  nay,  we  really  need  no  escort  to 
Bahia.  The  girls  shall  be  ready,  and  we  will  start  an  horn 
before  sunset  to-morrow." 

She  called  the  old  man  at  once.  She  gave  her  orders  in 
the  tone  which  he  knew  meant  there  was  to  be  no  discussion. 
She  said  no  word  of  a  secret  to  be  preserved :  she  had  de 
termined  at  once  to  trust  the  English  spy's  good  faith.  She 
and  her  doves  would  be  out  of  this  Franciscan  and  Moorish 
cage  before  the  setting  of  another  sun.  Better  trust  an  Eng 
lish  spy  than  the  tender  mercies  of  Nemisio  de  Salcedo,  or 
the  ingenious  wiles  of  Father  Jeronimo  and  his  brothers  ! 

Major  Barelo  was  surprised,  of  course,  but  clearly  enough 
he  also  was  relieved.  Lonsdale  was  right  when  he  guessed 
that  Elguezebal  and  he  could  easily  give  escort  between  the 
fort  and  the  bay,  while  they  might  not  send  any  troops  as  far 
away  as  the  Red  River.  "  With  my  consent  not  a  bird 
should  leave  Texas  for  Louisiana  ; "  this  was  always  Salcedo's 
motto.  The  wonder  was  that  he  himself  crossed  that  sacred 
barrier. 


OR,   "  SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  263 

And  by  five  o'clock  of  the  next  day  the  dresses  were  packed, 
and  the  good-bys  were  said.  Old  Ransom  had  drawn  the 
last  strap  two  holes  farther  up  than  earlier  packers  had  left 
it.  He  had  scolded  the  last  stable-boy,  and  then  made  him 
rich  for  life  by  scattering  among  all  the  boys  a  handful  of 
rials )  —  "  bits  "  as  he  called  them.  He  had  lifted  the  girls  to 
their  saddles,  while  Miss  Eunice  more  sedately  mounted  from 
the  parapet  of  the  stairs ;  and  then  the  two  troops,  one  Eng 
lish  in  every  saddle  and  stirrup,  the  other  French  as  well  in 
its  least  detail,  filed  out  into  the  plaza.  Both  were  extraor 
dinary  to  a  people  of  horsemen,  whose  Spanish  equipments 
were  the  best  in  the  world.  Major  Barelo  and  dear  Aunt 
Dolores  stood  on  the  gallery  ;  and  he  flung  out  his  handker 
chief,  and  said,  "  Good-by." 

"  Just  as  dear  papa  said  on  the  levee  !  Oh,  dearest  auntie, 
if  he  could  only  be  there  to  meet  us  !  Why,  auntie,  it  was  a 
year  ago  this  living  day!  " 

Sure  enough,  it  was  just  a  year  since  the  little  Inez's  jour- 
neyings  had  begun.  She  was  a  thousand  years  older. 

An  hour's  ride  out  of  town,  and  then  the  sun  was  down  \ 
but  here  were  the  tents  pitched  and  waiting  for  them.  So 
like  last  year !  but  so  unlike !  No  old  Caesar,  alas !  Inez's 
last  care  had  been  to  visit  him  in  the  lock-up,  and  to  promise 
him  all  papa's  influence  for  his  release.  No  Phil  Nolan, 
alas  !  and  no  Will  Harrod !  Eunice  confessed  to  Lonsclale 
that,  if  she  had  had  imagination  enough  to  foresee  the 
wretched  recollections  of  the  camp,  she  could  not  have  braved 
them.  But  Inez,  dear  child,  was  truly  brave.  She  said  no 
word.  She  was  pale  and  thoughtful ;  but  she  applied  her 
self  to  the  little  cares  of  the  encampment,  which  a  year  ago 
she  would  have  lazily  left  to  her  cavaliers,  and  she  made  the 
White  Hawk  join  her. 

Lonsdale  also  was  eager  and  careful.  But  oh  the  differ 
ence  between  the  elaborated  services  of  this  man,  trained  in 
cities,  and  the  easy  attentions  of  those  others,  born  to  the 
wilderness,  and  all  at  home  in  it ! 


264  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Ransom,  with  all  his  feminine  sympathy,  felt  the  lack  of 
what  they  had  last  year,  and  managed,  in  his  way,  to  supply 
it  better  than  any  one  else  could.  His  vassals  had  served 
the  supper  better  than  could  have  been  hoped ;  the  beds 
were  ready  for  the  ladies,  and  as  soon  as  the  short  and  quiet 
meal  was  over  they  retired. 

Lonsdale  lighted  a  cigar,  called  the  old  man  to  him,  and 
invited  him  to  join  him.  No,  he  would  not  smoke,  never  did ; 
but  when  Lonsdale  repeated  his  invitation  he  sat  down. 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Mr.  Ransom.  The  ladies  like  this 
camp-life  better  than  any  quarters  they  would  have  given  us 
yonder." 

He  pointed  over  his  shoulder  at  some  little  buildings  of  an 
outpost  of  the  "  Mission." 

Ransom  did  not  conceal  his  disgust  as  he  looked  round. 

"  See  the  critters  furder,"  said  he :  "  treat  us  jest  as  they 
treated  them  redskins  last  spring  when  they  got  um.  They 
would  ef  they  wanted  to.  See  um  furder.  Et's  them  cussed 
black  goats  'n  rope-yarn  men  that's  at  the  bottom  o'  this  war 
agin  the  cap'n  —  Cap'n  Nolan.  The  cap'n  couldn't  stand 
um,  he  couldn't ;  he  told  um  so,  he  did.  He  gin  um  a  bit  of 
his  mind.  Cussed  critters  never  forgot  it,  they  didn't  —  never 
forgot  it.  Cap'n  gin  um  a  bit  of  his  mind,  he  did.  Cussed 
critters  is  at  the  bottom  of  this  war.  See  um  furder." 

"  But  you  have  to  see  them  a  good  deal  at  Orleans,  Mr. 
Ransom,  do  you  not  ?  There  is  no  Protestant  church  there, 
is  there  ? " 

"  Guess  not.  Ain't  no  meetin'-house  there,  and  no  meetin'. 
Ain't  nothing  but  eyedolaters,  'n'  immigis,  'n'  smoke-pans, 
V  boys  in  shirts.  See  um!  guess  we  do,  the  critters. 
Bishop  comes  round  to  dine.  Likes  good  Madeira  and 
Cognac  'zwell  'zanybody,  he  does.  Poor  set,  all  on  um.  ' 
Ignorant  critters.  Don't  know  nothin'.  No  !  ain't  no  meet 
in'-house  in  Orleans." 

"  Do  they  give  Mr.  Perry  or  Miss  Perry  any  trouble  about 
their  religion  ?  Do  they  wish  them  to  come  to  church,  or  to 
the  confessional  ?  Did  thev  baptize  Miss  Inez  ?  " 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  265 

"  Do  they  ?  I  see  um  git  Mr.  Perry  to  church  ef  he  didn't 
want  to  go !  "  and  the  old  man  chuckled  enigmatically, 
"  They's  ignorant  critters,  they  is ;  but  they  knows  enough  not 
to  break  they  own  heads,  they  do." 

"  You  have  heard  of  the  inquisition  ?  "  persisted  Lonsdale. 

"  Guess  I  have.  Seen  the  cussed  critters  when  I  was  at 
Cadiz  in  the  '  Jehu : '  that's  nineteen  years  ago  last  summer. 
Never  had  none  here  to  Orleans,  never  but  once !  "  And 
this  time  he  chuckled  triumphantly.  "  They  didn't  stay  long 
then,  they  didn't.  Went  off  quicker  than  they  come,  they 
did.  I  know  um.  Cussed  critters." 

Lonsdale  was  curious,  and  asked  for  an  explanation. 

The  old  man's  face  beamed  delight.  He  looked  up  to  the 
stars,  and  told  this  story :  — 

"  Best  guv'nor  they  ever  had,  over  there  to  Orleans,  was  a 
man  named  Miro.  Spoke  English  heself  most  as  well  as  I 
do.  Married  Miss  Maccarty,  he  did  —  pretty  Irish  girl. 
Wasn't  no  real  Spanisher  at  all.  Well,  one  day,  they  comes 
one  of  these  dirty  rascals  with  a  rope's  end  round  him  — 
brown  blanket  coat  on  —  comes  up  from  Cuba,  he  does  — 
comes  to  Gov.  Miro.  Gov.  Miro  asked  him  to  dinner,  he 
did,  and  gin  him  his  quarters.  Then  the  cussed  fool  sends  a 
note  to  the  guv'nor,  'n  he  says,  sez  he,  that  these  under 
ground  critters,  these  Inky  Sijoan  they  calls  um  over  there  ; 
they'd  sent  him,  they  had,  says  he;  and  mebbe  he  should 
want  a  file  o'  soldiers  some  night.  Says  so  in  a  letter 
to  the  guv'nor.  So  the  guv'nor,  he  thought,  ef  Old  Night 
gown  wanted  the  soldiers  he'd  better  have  um.  'N'  he  sent 
round  a  sergeant  'n'  a  file  of  men  that  night,  he  did,  at  mid 
night,  'n'  waked  up  Old  Nightgown  in  his  bed.  'N'  Old 
Nightgown  says,  says  he,  he  was  much  obliged,  but  that 
night  he  didn't  need  um.  But  the  sergeant  says,  says  he, 
that  he  needed  Old  Nightgown,  'n'  as  soon  as  the  old  fool 
got  his  rawhide  shoes  tied  on,  the  corporal  marched  him 
down  to  the  levee,  'n'  sent  him  off  to  Cadiz,  he  did ;  'n'  that's 
th?  last  time  the  Inky  Sijoan  men  come  here  —  'n' the  fust 


266  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

time  too.     Gov.  Miro  the  best  guv'nor  they  ever  had  over 
there.     Half  Englishman." 

Lonsdale  appreciated  the  compliment.      His  cigar  was 
finished.     He  bade  the  old  man  good-night,  and  turned  in. 


OR.  "SHOW  YCUR  PASSPORTS."  267 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

HOMEWARD   BOUND. 

"  So  they  resolved,  the  morrow  next  ensuing, 
So  soon  as  day  appeared  to  people's  viewing, 
On  their  intended  journey  to  proceed ; 
And  overnight  whatso  thereto  did  need 
Each  did  prepare,  in  readiness  to  be. 
The  morrow  next,  so  soon  as  one  might  see 
Light  out  of  heaven's  windows  forth  to  look, 
They  their  habiliments  unto  them  took, 
And  put  themselves,  in  God's  name,  on  their  way." 

Mother  Hubberffis  Tale. 

So  short  a  journey  as  that  from  San  Antonio  to  the  Gulf 
seemed  nothing  to  travellers  so  experienced  as  Miss  Perry 
and  her  niece.  As  for  the  White  Hawk,  she  was  never  so 
happy  as  in  the  open  air,  and  especially  as  on  horseback. 
She  counted  all  time  lost  that  was  spent  elsewhere,  and  was 
frank  enough  to  confess  that  she  thought  that  they  had  all 
escaped  from  a  feverish  wild  dream,  or  what  was  as  bad  as 
such,  in  coming  away  from  those  close  prison  walls.  The 
glorious  weather  of  October,  in  a  ride  over  the  prairies  in  one 
of  the  loveliest  regions  of  the  world,  could  not  but  raise  the 
spirits  of  all  the  ladies ;  and  Mr.  Lonsdale  might  well  con 
gratulate  himself  on  the  successful  result  of  his  bold  applica 
tion  to  Miss  Perry. 

As  they  approached  the  Gulf,  he  kept  some  lookouts  well 
in  advance,  in  hope  of  sighting  the  boat  or  boats  from  the 
•'  Firefly  "  which  he  expected.  But  Friday  night  came  with 
to  report  from  these  men ;  and,  although  they  had  not 


268  PHILIP  NO I  \N'S  FRIENDS: 

returned,  he  was  fain  to  order  a  halt,  after  conference  with 
Ransom,  on  a  little  flat  above  a  half-bluff  which  looked  down 
upon  the  stream.  The  short  twilight  closed  in  on  them  as 
they  made  their  supper.  But  after  the  supper  was  finished, 
as  they  strolled  up  and  down  before  going  to  bed,  a  meteor, 
far  more  brilliant  than  any  shooting  star  could  be  so  near 
the  horizon,  rose  above  the  river  in  the  eastern  distance  ;  and 
as  they  all  wondered  another  arose,  and  yet  another. 
"  Rockets  !  "  cried  Mr.  Lonsdale  well  pleased.  "  Roberts 
has  found  them ;  and  this  is  their  short-hand  way  of  telling 
us  that  they  are  at  hand.  —  William,"  he  said,  turning  to  the 
thoroughly  respectable  servant  who  in  top-boots  and  buck 
skins  followed  his  wanderings  in  these  deserts,  —  "  William, 
find  something  which  you  can  show  to  them."  The  man  of 
all  arts  disappeared ;  and,  while  the  girls  were  yet  looking  for 
another  green  star  in  the  distance,  they  were  startled  by  the 
"  shirr-r  "  of  a  noisy  rocket  which  rose  close  above  their  own 
heads,  and  burst  beautiful  above  the  still  waters.  Another 
and  another  followed  in  quick  succession,  and  the  reply  was 
thus  secure.  The  White  Hawk  was  beside  herself  with 
delight.  She  watched  the  firing  of  No.  2  as  Eunice  might 
have  watched  the  skilful  manipulations  of  Mme.  Le  Brun. 
William  was  well  pleased  by  her  approbation.  He  did  not 
bend  much  from  the  serenity  of  a  London  valet's  bearing, 
but  he  did  permit  the  White  Hawk  herself  to  apply  the 
burning  brand  to  the  match  of  the  third  rocket.  The  girl 
screamed  with  delight  as  she  saw  it  burst,  and  as  the  falling 
stick  plunged  into  the  river. 

"  To-morrow  morning,  Miss  Inez,  your  foot  is  on  the  deck, 
and  these  pleasant  wanderings  of  ours  are  over  forever." 
Even  Inez's  severity  toward  the  man  she  tried  to  hate  gave 
way  at  his  display —  so  difficult  for  a  man  of  his  make  —  of 
emotion  which  was  certainly  real  and  deep. 

"  But,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  no  Englishman  will  convince  me  that 
he  is  sorry  to  be  on  the  sea." 

"  Cela  depend.  I  shall  be  sorry  if  the  sea  parts  me  from 
near  and  dear  friends." 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  269 

"  As  if  I  meant  to  be  sentimental  with  old  Chisholm  or 
Conolly,  because  he  had  been  good  to  us ! "  This  was 
Inez's  comment  as  she  repeated  the  conversation  to  her  aunt 
afterward.  "  I  was  not  going  to  be  affectionate  to  him." 

"What  did  you  say?  "  asked  Eunice,  laughing. 

"  I  said  I  was  afraid  Ma-ry  would  be  seasick,"  said  the 
reckless  girl.  "  I  thought  that  would  take  off  the  romance 
for  him."  None  the  less  could  Eunice  see  that  the  rancor  of 
her  rage  and  hatred  were  much  abated,  as  is  the  fortune 
often  of  the  wild  passions  of  that  age  of  discretion  which 
comes  at  eighteen  years. 

Mr.  Lonsdale  had  not  promised  more  than  he  performed. 
Before  the  ladies  were  astir  the  next  morning,  two  boats  were 
at  an  improvised  landing  below  the  tents.  Ransom  had 
transferred  to  them  already  all  the  packs  from  the  mules ; 
and  there  needed  only  that  breakfast  should  be  over,  and 
the  ladies'  last  "  traps  "  were  embarked  also,  and  they  were 
themselves  on  board.  A  boatswain  in  charge  received  Mr. 
Lonsdale  with  tokens  of  respect  which  did  not  escape  Inez's 
eye.  As  for  the  White  Hawk,  she  was  beside  herself  with 
wonder  at  the  movements  of  craft  so  much  more  powerful 
than  any  thing  to  which  the  little  river  of  San  Antonio  had 
trained  her.  As  the  sun  rose  higher  the  seamen  improvised 
an  awning.  The  current  of  the  river,  such  as  it  was,  aided 
them  ;  and  before  two  o'clock  the  little  party  was  on  the  deck 
of  the  "  Firefly  "  in  the  offing. 

Nothing  is  prettier  than  the  eagerness  of  self-surrender 
with  which  naval  officers  always  receive  women  on  their 
ships.  The  chivalry  of  a  gentleman,  the  homesickness  of  an 
exile,  me  enthusiasm  of  a  host,  —  all  unite  to  welcome  those 
whose  presence  is  so  rare  that  they  are  made  all  the  more 
comfortable  because  there  is  no  provision  for  them  in  a  state 
of  nature.  In  this  case,  the  gentlemen  had  had  some  days' 
notice  that  the  ladies  might  be  expected. 

It  was  clear  that  Lonsdale  was  quite  at  home  among  them, 
and  was  a  favorite.  Even  the  old  salts  who  stood  at  the 


270  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

gangway  smiled  approval  of  him  as  he  stepped  on  board 
He  presented  young  Drapier  and  Clerk,  the  two  lieutenants 
who  held  the  first  and  second  rank  ;  and  then,  with  careful 
impartiality,  the  group  of  midshipmen  who  stood  behind. 
Then  he  spoke  to  every  one  of  them  separately.  "  Good 
news  from  home,  Bob  ?  Mr.  Anson,  I  hope  the  admiral  is 
well;  and  how  is  your  excellent  father,  Mr.  Pigot?"  A 
moment  more,  and  a  bronzed,  black-browed  man,  in  a  mili 
tary  undress,  came  out  from  the  companion.  He  smiled  as 
he  gave  his  hand  to  Lonsdale,  who  owned  his  surprise  at 
meeting  him. 

"  Miss  Perry,"  said  he  at  once,  "  here  is  one  friend  more, 
whom  you  have  heard  of  but  never  seen.  One  never  knows 
where  to  look  for  the  general,"  he  said,  laughing,  "  or  I  also 
should  be  surprised.  Let  me  present  to  you  Gen.  Bowles, 
Miss  Perry.  Miss  Inez,  this  is  Gen.  Bowles,  —  I  think  I 
might  say  a  friend  of  your  father's." 

This  extraordinary  man  smiled  good-naturedly,  and  said,  — 

"  Yes,  a  countryman  of  yours  and  of  your  brother's,  Miss 
Perry ;  and  all  countrymen  are  friends.  The  people  in 
Orleans  do  not  love  me  as  well  as  I  love  the  Americans  who 
live  among  them." 

Eunice  was  not  disposed  to  be  critical.  "  Mr.  Lonsdale  is 
very  kind  ;  and  I  am  sure  we  poor  wandering  damsels  are 
indebted  to  all  these  gentlemen  for  their  welcome,"  said  she. 
She  had  learned  long  since,  that  in  times  like  hers,  and  in 
such  surroundings,  she  must  not  discriminate  too  closely  as 
to  the  antecedents  of  those  with  whom  she  had  to  do.  Inez 
could  afford  to  have  "  hates "  and  "  instincts,"  like  most 
young  ladies  of  her  age.  But  Eunice  had  passed  thirty,  and 
was  willing  to  accept  service  from  Galaor,  if  by  ill  luck  she 
could  not  command  the  help  of  Amadis.  The  truth  was,  that 
Gen.  Bowles  had  been  known  to  her  only  as  a  chief  of 
marauding  Highlanders  might  have  been  known  to  a  lady  of 
Edinburgh.  For  many  years  he  had  been,  in  the  Spanish 
wars  against  England,  the  daring  commander  of  the  savage 


UK,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  271 

allies  of  the  English.  He  was  her  countryman,  because  he 
was  born  in  Maryland.  But,  as  soon  as  Gen.  Howe  came  to 
Philadelphia,  Bowles  had  enlisted  as  a  boy  in  the  British 
army.  It  was  after  the  most  wild  life  that  ever  an  adventurer 
led,  —  now  in  dungeons  and  now  in  palaces,  —  that  she  met 
him  on  the  deck  of  an  English  cutter. 

His  eye  fell  upon  Inez  with  the  undisguised  admiration 
with  which  men  were  apt  to  look  on  Inez.  When  he  was 
presented  to  Ma-ry  in  turn,  he  was  quick  enough  to  recognize 
—  he  hardly  could  have  told  how  —  something  of  the  savage 
training  of  this  girl.  She  looked  as  steadily  into  his  eye  as 
he  into  hers.  Compliment  came  into  conversation  with  less 
disguise  in  those  days  than  in  these  ;  and  so  the  general 
did  not  hesitate  to  say,  — 

"But  for  that  rich  bloom,  Miss  Ma-ry,  upon  your  cheek,  I 
should  have  been  glad  to  claim  you  as  the  daughter  of  a 
chief,  —  a  chief  among  men  who  have  not  known  how  to 
write  treaties,  nor  to  break  them." 

Ma-ry  probably  did  not  follow  his  stately  and  affected  sen 
tence. 

"  My  name  on  the  prairies  is  the  White  Hawk,"  said  she 
simply. 

"Well  named,"  cried  Bowles;  and  he  looked  to  Eunice  for 
an  explanation,  which  of  course  she  quickly  gave.  The 
passage  was  instantaneous,  as,  among  the  group  of  courteous 
gentlemen,  the  ladies  were  led  to  the  cabin  of  the  captain, 
which  he  had  relinquished  for  them ;  but  it  was  the  begin 
ning  of  long  conferences  between  Gen.  Bowles  and  the 
White  Hawk,  in  which,  with  more  skill  than  Eunice  had 
done,  or  even  Harrod,  he  traced  out  her  scanty  recollection 
of  what  her  mother  had  told  her  of  the  life  to  which  she  was 
born. 

The  stiffness  of  the  reception  and  welcome  of  the  ladies 
was  broken,  and  all  conversation  for  the  moment  was  made 
impossible,  by  the  escape  of  two  pets  of  the  girls,  from  the 
arms  of  a  sailor,  who  had  attempted  to  bring  them  up  the 


272  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

ladder.  They  were  little  Chihuahua  dogs,  —  pretty  little 
creatures  of  the  very  smallest  of  the  dog  race,  —  which 
Lonsdale  had  presented  when  he  had  returned  to  San  An 
tonio,  as  one  of  the  steps,  perhaps,  by  which  he  might  work 
into  Inez's  variable  favor.  The  little  things  found  their  feet 
on  deck,  and  dashed  about  among  swivels,  cat-heads,  casks, 
an  j  other  furniture,  in  a  way  which  delighted  the  midship 
men,  confounded  the  old  seamen,  and  set  both  the  girls 
screaming  with  laughter.  After  such  an  adventure,  and  the 
recapture  of  Trip  and  Skip,  formality  was  impossible ;  and, 
when  the  ladies  disappeared  into  Lieut.  Drapier's  hospitable 
quarters,  all  parties  had  the  ease  of  manner  of  old  friends. 

Ransom,  with  his  own  sure  tact,  and  under  the  law  of 
"natural  selection,"  —  which  was  true  before  Dr.  Darwin 
was  born,  —  found  his  way  at  once  into  the  company  of  the 
warrant-officers.  Indeed,  he  might  be  well  described  by  call 
ing  him  a  sort  of  warrant-officer,  which  means  a  man  who 
takes  much  of  the  work  and  much  of  the  responsibility  of 
this  world,  and  yet  has  very  little  of  the  honor.  As  the  men 
hauled  up  the  little  anchor,  and  got  the  boats  on  board,  after 
Ransom  had  seen  his  share  of  luggage  of  the  party  fairly 
secured,  an  old  sailor's  habits  came  over  him  ;  and  he  could 
hardly  help,  although  a  visitor,  lending  a  hand. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  been  on  the  deck  of  an 
English  man-of-war ;  but  never  before  had  he  been  there  as 
a  distinguished  visitor.  He  also,  like  his  mistress,  if  Eunice 
were  his  mistress,  knew  how  to  conquer  his  prejudices.  And, 
indeed,  the  order  and  precision  of  man-of-war's-man's  style, 
after  the  slackness,  indolence,  and  disobedience  of  the  Greas 
ers,  was  joy  to  his  heart.  He  could  almost  have  found  it  in 
him  to  exempt  these  neat  English  tars  from  the  general  doom 
which  would  fall  on  all  "furriners."  At  the  least,  they  could 
not  speak  French,  Spanish,  or  Choctaw ;  and  with  this  old 
quartermaster  who  offered  him  a  lighted  pipe,  and  with  the 
boatswain  who  gave  him  a  tough  tarred  hand,  he  could 
indulge  in  the  vernacular. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  273 

Hardly  were  these  three  mates  established  in  a  comfort 
able  nook  forward  under  the  shade  of  the  foresail,  when  an 
older  man  than  the  other  Englishman  presented  himself,  and 
tipped  his  hat  to  Ransom  respectfully  in  a  somewhat  shame 
faced  fashion. 

The  old  man  looked  his  surprise,  and  relieved  the  other's 
doubts  by  giving  him  a  hard  hand-grip  cordially. 

"  Why,  Ben,  boy,  be  ye  here  ?  Where  did  ye  turn  up 
from?" 

The  man  said  he  enlisted  in  Jamaica  two  years  before. 

"  Jes  so,  the  old  story.  Can't  teach  an  old  dog  new  tricks. 
Have  some  tobaccy,  Ben  ?  Perhaps  all  on  ye  will  like  to  try 
the  Greasers'  tobaccy.  Et's  the  only  thing  they's  got  that's 
good  for  any  thing,  et  is."  And  he  administered  enormous 
plugs  of  the  Mexican  tobacco  to  each  of  his  comrades, 
neither  of  whom  was  averse  to  a  new  experiment  in  that  line. 
"  Woll,  Ben,  et's  a  good  many  years  since  I  see  ye.  See  ye 
last  the  day  Count  Dystang  sailed  out  o'  Bostin  Harbor. 
Guess  ye  didn't  go  aloft  much  that  v'y'ge,  Ben  ? " 

The  other  laughed,  and  intimated  that  people  did  not  go 
aloft  easily  when  they  had  handcuffs  on.  The  truth  was,  he 
had  been  a  prisoner  of  war,  and,  under  some  arrangements 
made  by  the  Committee  of  Safety,  had  been  transferred  to 
the  French  admiral's  care. 

"  'N  when  did  ye  see  Mr.  Conolly,  Ben  ? "  asked  Ransom, 
with  a  patronizing  air. 

The  man  said  Mr.  Conolly  had  never  forgotten  him,  that 
"  he  was  good  to  him,"  as  his  phrase  was,  and  got  him  ex 
changed  from  the  French  fleet.  But  Mr.  Conolly  afterward 
went  to  Canada ;  and  Ben  had  never  heard  from  him  again. 

"  I've  heerd  on  him  often,"  said  Ransom,  with  his  eyes 
twinkling :  "  Guv'nor  o'  Kannydy  sent  him  down  here  to  spy 
out  the  country.  Thort  they  wa'n't  no  rope  to  hang  him 
with,  he  did :  didn't  know  where  hemp  grew.  Down  comes 
Conolly,  and  he  sees  the  gineral,  that's  Wilkinson,  up  river ; 
'n  he  tells  the  gineral,  and  all  the  ginerals.  they'd  better  fight 


274  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

for  King  George,  he  does,  'n  that  the  king's  pay  was  better 
nor  Gineral  Washington's.  Darned  fool,  he  was.  Gineral 
Wilkinson  fooled  him.  Major  Dunn  fooled  him,  all  on  um 
fooled  him.  Thought  he'd  bought  um  all  out,  he  did ! " 
and  Ransom  chuckled,  in  his  happiest  mood;  "thought  he'd 
bought  um  ;  'n  jest  then  in  come  a  wild  fellow,  —  hunter,  —  'n 
he  asked  where  the  English  kurnel  was,  he  did,  'n  he  says  the 
redskins  'n  the  English  'd  killed  his  father  'n  mother ;  'n  he 
says  he'll  have  the  kurnel's  scalp  to  pay  for  it ;  'n  after  he 
hollered  round  some  time,  old  Wilkinson  he  put  him  in  irons, 
'n  sent  him  away ;  'n  then  the  kurnel  —  Conolly  —  he  took 
on  so,  'n  was  so  afeerd  he'd  be  scalped,  that  he  asked  the 
gineral  for  an  escort,  he  did,  'n  so  he  went  home.  Gineral 
gin  the  hunter  a  gallon  o'  whiskey,  'n  five  pounds  of  powder, 
to  come  in  there  'n  holler  round  so." 

And  old  Ransom  contemplated  the  sky,  in  silent  approval 
of  fJie  deceit.  After  a  pause  he  said,  — 

"  They  wus  some  on  um  over  there  among  the  Greasers, 
thought  this  man  was  Col.  Conolly  "  (pause  again).  "  They 
didn't  ask  me,  'n  I  didn't  tell  um.  I  knew  better.  I  see 
Conolly  when  I  see  you  fust,  Ben  "  (grim  smile),  "  when  we 
put  the  irons  on  you,  aboard  the  '  Cerberus  '  'fore  she  went 
down.  I  knew  Conolly."  Another  pause ;  then,  somewhat 
tentatively,  — 

"  This  man  I  never  see  before ;  but  he  knows  how  to 
saddle  his  own  horse,  he  does  ;  "  this  in  approval,  Lonsdale 
being  "  this  man  "  referred  to. 

The  others  said  that  they  took  "  this  man  "  into  Vera  Cruz 
the  winter  before,  with  his  servants.  The  talk  of  the  "  Fire 
fly  "  was,  that  while  they  had  been  sounding  in  Corpus 
Christi  Bay  they  had  been  waiting  for  him.  Who  he  was, 
they  did  not  know,  but  believed  he  was  First  Lord  of  the 
Admiralty,  or  may  be  a  son  of  Lord  Anson,  or  perhaps  oi 
some  other  grandee. 

"  Ye  don't  think  he's  that  one  that  was  at  New  York,  do 
you  ? "  said  Ransom.  "  I  mean  the  Juke,  they  called  him  — 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS,"  275 

old  king's  son.     I  come  mighty  near  carrying  him  off  myself 
one  night,  in  a  whale-boat." 

The  men  showed  little  indignation  at  this  allusion  to  Royal 
William,  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  —  "  by  England's  navy  all 
adored,"  though  that  gentleman  was  said  to  be.  But  they 
expressed  doubts,  though  no  one  knew,  whether  Mr.  Lonsdale 
were  he.  If  he  were,  the  midshipmen  were  either  ignorant 
or  bold ;  for,  when  Inez  compelled  them  to  sing  that  evening, 
they  sang  rapturously,  — 

"  When  Royal  William  comes  on  board, 
By  England's  navy  all  adored, 
To  him  I  sometimes  pass  the  word, 
For  I'm  a  smart  young  midshipman." 

The  White  Hawk  proved  a  better  sailor  than  Eunice  had 
dared  to  hope.  Her  wonder  at  what  seemed  to  her  the 
immense  size  of  the  little  vessel,  and  at  all  its  equipment 
and  movement,  was  a  delight  to  Inez  and  even  to  the  less 
demonstrative  Ransom.  The  young  gentlemen  were  divided 
in  their  enthusiastic  attentions  to  these  charming  girls,  and 
the  three  or  four  days  of  their  little  voyage  were  all  too 
short  for  the  youngsters;  when,  with  a  fresh  north-west 
breeze,  they  entered  the  south-western  mouths  of  the  great 
Mississippi  River,  and  so  long  as  this  breeze  served  them 
held  on  to  the  main  current  of  the  stream.  For  that  current 
itself,  the  breeze  was  dead  ahead,  and  so  the  "  Firefly " 
came  again  to  an  anchor,  to  the  grief  of  the  ladies  more  than 
of  their  young  admirers. 

Eunice  Perry  and  her  "  doves  "  had  retired  to  dress  for 
dinner,  when,  from  a  French  brig  which  was  at  anchor  hard 
by,  a  boat  was  dropped,  which  pulled  hastily  across  to  the 
Englishman.  In  these  neutral  waters  there  was  no  danger 
in  any  event,  but  a  white  handkerchief  fluttered  at  her  bow. 
A  handsome  young  man  in  a  French  uniform  ran  up  on  the 
"  Firefly's  "  deck.  He  spoke  a  word  to  Capt.  Drapier,  but 


276  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

hardly  more  ;  for,  as  they  exchanged  the  first  civilities,  Eunice 
and  Inez  rushed  forward  from  the  companion,  and  Inez's 
arms  were  around  his  neck. 
"  My  dear,  dear  brother  I " 


OR,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  2JJ 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

HOME  AS   FOUND. 

"  And  I  will  see  before  I  die 
The  palms  and  temples  of  the  South." 

TKNNYSON. 

"  Is  it  not  perfectly  lovely  ? "  said  Inez  to  her  brother,  as 
she  ran  ashore  over  the  little  plank  laid  for  a  gangway.  "  Is 
it  not  perfectly  lovely  ? "  And  she  flung  her  arms  about  him, 
and  kissed  him,  as  her  best  way  of  showing  her  delight  that 
she  and  he  were  both  at  home. 

"  You  are,  pussy,"  said  Roland,  receiving  the  caress  with 
as  much  enthusiasm  as  she  gave  it  with ;  "  and  so  is  the  White 
Hawk,  whom  I  will  never  call  Ma-ry ;  and  to  tell  you  the 
whole  truth,  and  not  to  quarrel  with  you  the  first  morning  of 
home,  dear  old  Orleans  is  not  an  unfit  setting  for  such  jewels. 
Oh,  dear  !  how  good  it  is  to  be  at  home  !  " 

The  young  officer  seemed  as  young  as  Inez  in  his  content ; 
and  Inez  forgot  her  trials  for  the  minute,  in  the  joy  of  having 
him,  of  hearing  him,  and  seeing  him. 

So  soon  as  Mr.  Perry  had  understood  the  happy  meeting 
at  the  river's  mouth,  he  also  had  boarded  the  "  Firefly." 
Matters  had  indeed  fallen  out  better  than  even  he  had 
planned ;  and  the  embarkation  planned  in  grief  by  Eunice, 
and  in  what  seemed  loyalty  by  Mr.  Lonsdale,  proved  just 
what  all  would  have  most  desired.  Mr.  Perry  had  the  pleas 
ure  of  announcing  to  Lieut.  Drapier  and  the  other  English 
officers  peace  between  England  and  France.  They  had 
heard  of  the  hopes  of  this,  but  till  now  the  announcement 


278  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

had  lingered.  At  the  little  dinner  improvised  on  the  deck  ot 
the  "  Firefly,"  many  toasts  were  drunk  to  the  eternal  peace  of 
England  and  France  ;  but,  alas !  the  winds  seem  to  have  dis 
persed  them  before  they  arrived  at  any  mint  which  stamped 
them  for  permanent  circulation. 

With  all  clue  courtesies,  Mr.  Perry  had  then  taken  his  own 
family  on  board  the  "  Antoinette,"  a  little  brig  which  he  had 
chartered  at  Bordeaux,  that  he  might  himself  bring  out  this 
news.  Of  course  he  begged  Mr.  Lonsdale  to  join  them  as 
soon  as  he  knew  that  that  gentleman's  plan  of  travel  was  to 
take  him  to  Orleans.  Drapier  and  Clerk  manifested  some 
surprise  when  they  learned  of  this  plan  of  travel,  as  they 
had  supposed  the  "  Firefly  "  was  to  take  him  to  Jamaica. 
They  learned  now,  for  the  first  time,  that  Lonsdale  had 
errands  at  Fort  Massac  and  the  falls  of  the  Ohio  and  Fort 
Washington.  The  young  officers  looked  quizzically  at  each 
other  behind  his  back,  as  if  to  ask  how  long  he  might  be 
detained  at  Orleans.  But  whoever  Lonsdale  was,  and  how 
ever  good  a  friend  he  was,  they  did  not  dare  to  talk  banter 
to  him, — as  Miss  Inez  and  as  Ransom  did  not  fail  to 
observe. 

So  with  long  farewells,  and  promises  to  meet  again,  the  two 
vessels  parted.  Gen.  Bowles  said  to  Eunice,  as  he  bade 
them  good-by,  that  he  was  the  only  person  on  board  the 
"  Firefly  "  who  was  not  raging  with  indignation  at  the  change 
of  plans.  "  The  middies  are  beside  themselves,"  he  said. 
"  So,  indeed,  am  I ;  but  my  grief  is  a  little  assuaged  by  the 
recollection  that  Gov.  Salcedo  would  hang  me  in  irons  in 
fifteen  minutes  after  the  '  Firefly '  arrived.  True,  this  is  a 
trifling  price  to  pay  for  the  pleasure  of  sailing  along  the 
coast  with  three  charming  ladies ;  but  if  I  do  not  pay  it,  I 
.have  the  better  chance  to  see  them  again." 

"  And  also,"  he  added  more  gravely,  "  I  have  the  better 
chance  to  learn  something  of  this  Apache  raid  in  which  your 
.interesting  charge  was  carried  from  home,  of  which,  Miss 
Perry,  I  will  certainly  inform  you." 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  279 

The  "  Antoinette "  had  slowly  worked  her  way  up  the 
stream.  At  nightfall,  on  the  second  night,  she  vas  still 
thirty  miles  from  the  city.  But,  as  the  sun  rose  on  the 
morning  of  the  third  day,  Roland  had  tapped  at  the  door  oi 
the  ladies'  cabin,  and  had  told  them  that  they  were  at  the 
levee  in  front  of  the  town.  Of  course  Inez  and  Ma-ry  were 
ready  for  action  in  a  very  few  moments  ;  and,  as  Rol  ind 
waited  eager  for  them,  they  joined  him  for  a  little  ramble,  in 
which  Inez  should  see  his  delight  as  he  came  home,  and 
both  of  them  should  see  Ma-ry's  wonder. 

It  is  hard  even  for  the  resident  in  New  Orleans  of  to-day 
to  carry  himself  back  to  the  little  fortified  town  which  Inez 
so  rejoiced  to  see.  As  it  happens,  we  have  the  ill-tempered 
narrative  which  a  M.  Duvallar,  a  cockney  Parisian,  gave,  at 
just  the  same  time,  of  his  first  impressions.  But  he  saw  as  a 
seasick  Frenchman  eager  to  see  the  streets  of  Paris  sees : 
Inez  saw  as  a  happy  girl  sees,  who  from  her  first  wanderings 
returns  home  with  so  much  that  she  loves  best.  The  first 
wonder  to  be  seen  was  a  wonder  to  Inez  as  to  the  others  :  it 
was  the  first  vessel  ever  built  in  Ohio  to  go  to  sea.  She  lay 
in  the  stream,  proudly  carrying  the  American  colors  at  each 
peak,  and  was  the  marvel  of  the  hour.  But  Inez  cared  little 
for  schooners,  brigs,  or  ships. 

She  hurried  her  brother  to  the  Place  d'Armes,  which  sepa 
rated  the  river  from  two  buildings,  almost  Moorish  in  their 
look,  which  were  the  public  offices,  and  which  were  separated 
by  the  quaint  cathedral,  —  another  bit  of  Old  Spain.  Over 
wooden  walks,  laid  upon  the  clay  of  the  banquette  or  side 
walk,  she  hurried  him  through  one  and  another  narrow 
street,  made  up  of  square  wooden  houses,  never  more  than  a 
story  high,  and  always  offering  a  veranda  or  " galerie"  to 
the  street  front.  Between  the  banquette  and  the  roadway, 
a  deep  gutter,  neatly  built,  gave  room  for  a  little  brook,  if 
one  of  the  pitiless  rains  of  the  country  happened  to  flood  the 
town.  Little  bridges  across  these  gutters,  made  by  the  elon 
gation  of  the  wooden  walks,  required,  at  each  street-crossing 


280  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

a  moment's  care  on  the  part  of  the  passenger.  All  this,  to 
the  happy  Inez,  was  of  course  ;  to  the  watchful  White  Hawk, 
was  amazement ;  and  to  Roland  all  was  surprise,  that  in  so 
many  thousand  details  he  had  forgotten  how  the  home  of  his 
childhood  differed  from  the  Paris  of  his  manly  life.  The 
fine  fellow  chattered  as  Inez  chattered,  explained  to  the 
White  Hawk  as  he  thought  she  needed,  and  was  every  whit 
as  happy  as  Inez  wanted  him  to  be.  "  There  is  dear  M.  Le 
Bourgeois.  He  does  not  see  us.  Monsieur !  Monsieur ! 
You  have  not  forgotten  us,  have  you  ?  Here  is  little  Inez 
back  again.  And  how  are  they  at  Belmont  ?  Give  ever  so 
much  love  to  them  ! "  And  then,  as  she  ran  on,  "  And  there 
is  Jean  Audubon !  Jean,  Jean ! "  and  when  the  handsome 
young  fellow  crossed  the  street,  and  gave  her  both  hands, 
"Oh,  I  have  such  beautiful  heron's  wings  for  you  from  An 
tonio  ;  and  Ransom  has  put  up  two  nice  chapparal  birds  for 
you,  and  a  crane.  I  made  Major  Barelo  shoot  him  for  me. 
And,  Jean  !  did  you  ever  see  a  Chihuahua  dog  ?  Ma-ry  and 
I  have  two,  —  the  prettiest  creatures  you  ever  did  see.  This 
is  Ma-ry,  Mr.  Audubon.  —  How  do  you  do,  Mme.  Fourchet  ? 
We  are  all  very  well,  I  thank  you." 

So  they  walked  back  from  the  river,  —  not  many  squares : 
the  houses  were  farther  and  farther  apart ;  and  at  last  a 
long  fence,  made  of  cypress  boards  roughly  split,  and  highei 
than  their  heads,  parted  them  from  a  garden  of  trees  and 
shrubs  blazing  with  color  and  with  fruit.  The  fence  ran 
along  the  whole  square ;  and  now  the  little  Inez  fairly  flew 
along  the  banquette  till  she  came  to  a  gateway  which  gave 
passage  into  the  garden.  Here  she  instantly  struck  a  bell 
which  hung  just  within  the  fence  ;  and  there,  protected  by  a 
rough  shelter, — a  sort  of  wooden  awning,  arranged  for  the 
chance  of  rain,  —  she  jumped  with  impatience  as  she  waited 
for  the  others  to  arrive,  and  for  some  one  within  to  open. 
She  had  not  to  wait  long.  In  a  minute  Ransom  flung 
the  gate  open,  and  the  girl  stood  within  the  garden  of  her 
father's  house.  The  old  man  had  landed  long  before  them, 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS*  281 

and  had  come  up  to  the  house  to  satisfy  himself  that  all  was 
fit  for  the  family  and  its  guests. 

"  Come,  Ma-ry,  come ! "  cried  Inez,  as  she  dashed  along 
a  winding  brick  alley,  between  palm-trees  and  roses,  and 
myrtles  and  bananas,  oranges  in  fruit,  great  masses  of  mag 
nolia  cones  beginning  to  grow  red,  and  the  thousand  other 
wonders  of  a  well-kept  garden  in  this  most  beautiful  of  cities, 
in  a  climate  which  is  both  temperate  and  tropical  at  a  time. 
"  Oh,  come,  Ma-ry !  do  come,  Roland !  Welcome  home  1 
welcome  home ! " 

She  dashed  up  the  broad  high  steps  of  the  pretty  house, 
to  a  broad  veranda,  or  "gallery,"  near  twelve  feet  deep, 
which  surrounded  it  on  every  side.  Doors  flung  wide  open 
gave  entrance  to  a  wide  hall  which  ran  quite  through  the 
house,  a  double  door  of  Venetian  blind  closing  the  hall  at 
the  other  end. 

On  either  side,  large  doors  opened  into  very  high  rooms, 
the  floors  of  which,  of  a  shining  cypress  wood,  were  covered 
in  the  middle  by  mats  and  carpets.  The  shade  of  the  "  gal 
lery  "  was  sufficient  in  every  instance  to  keep  even  the  morn 
ing  sunlight  of  that  early  hour  from  the  rooms.  Ransom's 
forethought,  and  that  of  a  dozen  negro  servants  who  were 
waiting  to  welcome  her,  had  already  made  the  rooms  gor 
geous  with  flowers. 

The  happy  girl  had  a  word  for  every  Chloe  and  Miranda 
and  Zenon  and  Antoine  of  all  the  waiting  group ;  and  then 
she  was  beside  herself  as  she  tried  at  once  to  enjoy  Roland's 
satisfaction,  and  to  introduce  Ma-ry  to  her  new  home.  It 
was  impossible  to  be  disappointed.  Roland  was  as  well 
pleased  and  as  happy  as  she  could  wish  ;  and,  because  she 
was  so  happy,  the  White  Hawk  was  happy  too. 

"  See,  Roland,  here  is  the  picture  of  Mme.  Josephine 
you  sent  us.  And  here  is  your  great  First  Consul ;  and  very 
handsome  he  is  too,  though  he  is  so  stern.  I  should  think 
Mme.  Bonaparte  would  be  afraid  of  him.  See,  I  hung  them 
here.  Papa  had  hung  them  just  the  other  way,  and  you  see 


282  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

they  looked  away  from  each  other.  But  I  told  him  that 
would  never  do:  it  seemed  as  if  they  had  been  quarrelling." 

"  Madame's  picture  is  not  good  enough,  as  I  told  you 
when  I  sent  it.  The  general's  is  better.  But  nothing  gives 
his  charming  smile.  You  must  make  papa  tell  you  of  that. 
I  wish  we  had  Eugene's.  If  he  becomes  the  great  general 
he  means  to  be,  we  shall  have  his  picture  engraved  and 
framed  by  the  general's  side." 

"  Oh  !  there  are  to  be  no  more  wars,  you  know.  Eugene 
will  be  a  planter,  and  raise  sugar,  as  his  father  did.  We 
shall  never  hear  of  Gen.  Beauharnais  again." 

And  then  she  had  to  take  Ma-ry  into  her  own  room,  and 
show  her  all  the  arrangements  in  which  a  young  girl  delights. 
And  Ransom  was  made  happy  by  seeing  Mr.  Roland  again 
at  home.  And  these  joys  of  a  beginning  were  not  well 
over  before  the  carriage  arrived  from  the  "  Antoinette  " 
with  the  more  mature  elders  of  the  party,  who  had  not  been 
above  taking  things  easily,  and  riding  from  the  levee  to  the 
house. 

But  it  was  impossible  not  to  see  at  breakfast  that  Mr. 
Perry  was  silent  and  sad,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  effort  to  be 
hospitable  to  Mr.  Lonsdale,  and  to  make  his  son's  return 
cheerful.  And  at  last,  when  breakfast  was  over,  he  said 
frankly,  "  We  are  all  so  far  friends,  that  I  may  as  well  tell 
you  what  has  grieved  me.  Panton  came  on  board  as  we 
left  the  vessel. 

"  He  tells  me  that  this  horrid  business  yonder  has  been 
too  much  for  the  poor  girl." 

Inez's  face  was  as  pale  as  a  sheet  She  had  never  spoken 
to  her  father  of  the  beautiful  lady  whose  picture  Philip 
Nolan  had  showed  her.  She  had  always  supposed  that 
there  was  a  certain  confidence  or  privacy  about  his  marriage 
to  Fanny  Lintot ;  and,  as  the  reader  knows,  not  even  to 
Eunice  had  she  whispered  it  before  they  heard  of  his  death. 
But  now  it  was  clear  that  her  father  knew ;  and  he  knew 
more  than  she  knew. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  283 

"  Yes,"  continued  Mr.  Pern-.  "  There  is  a  child  who  will 
never  remember  his  father  and  mother.  But  this  pretty 
Fanny  Lintot,  not  even  the  child  could  keep  her  alive. 
'  What  should  I  wish  to  live  for  ? '  the  poor  child  said.  '  I 
shall  never  know  what  happiness  is  in  this  world.  I  did  not 
think  I  should  be  so  fortunate  as  to  join  my  dear  Phil  so 
soon.'  And  so  she  joined  him." 

Poor  Inez  !  She  could  not  bear  this.  She  ran  out  of  'he 
room,  and  the  White  Hawk  followed  her. 


284  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

"  Who  saw  the  Duke  of  Clarence  ?  " 


Henry  IV. 


"  AUNT  EUNICE,"  said  Roland,  with  all  his  own  impetu 
osity,  when  they  had  all  met  for  dinner,  "  there  is  no  such 
soup  as  a  gumbo  file',  —  no,  not  at  Malmaison.  Crede  experto, 
which  means,  my  dear  aunt,  '  I  know  what  I  am  talking 
about.'  And,  as  Madame  Casa  Calvo  is  not  here,  you  may 
help  me  again." 

"Dear  Roland,  I  will  help  you  twenty  times,"  said  his 
aunt,  who  was  as  fond  of  him  as  his  mother  would  have 
been,  and,  indeed,  quite  as  proud.  "  I  am  glad  we  can  hold 
our  own  with  Malmaison  in  any  thing." 

"  We  beat  Malmaison  in  many  things.  We  beat  Malmai 
son  in  roses,  though  Mile.  Hortense  has  given  me  a  '  Souve 
nir  '  from  there,  before  which  old  Narcisse  will  bow  down  in 
worship.  But  we  have  more  than  roses.  We  beat  Malmai 
son  in  pretty  girls,"  this  with  a  mock  bow  to  the  White 
Hawk  and  to  Inez ;  "  and  we  beat  her  in  gumbo." 

"  How  is  it  in  soldiers,  Mr.  Perry  ?  "  said  Mr.  Lonsdale, 
with  some  real  curiosity.  "  And  is  it  true  that  we  are  to  see 
the  renowned  Gen.  Victor  here  with  an  army  ? " 

"That  you  must  ask  my  father,"  said  the  young  fellow 
boldly.  "  He  is  the  diplomatist  of  the  family.  I  dare  say 
he  has  settled  it  all  with  Mme.  Josephine,  while  I  was 
obtaining  from  Mile.  Hortense  some  necessary  directions 
about  the  dressing  of  my  sister's  hair.  —  My  dear  Inez,  it  is  to 
be  cut  short  in  front,  above  the  eyebrows,  and  to  flow  loosely 
behind,  cL  la  Naiade  affranchie" 


ox,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS:'  285 

"  Nonsense  ! "  said  Inez.  "  Did  not  Mile  Hortense  tell 
you  that  ears  were  to  be  worn  boxed  on  the  right  side  and 
cuffed  on  the  left  ?  She  was  too  kind  to  your  impudence." 

"She  made  many  inquiries  regarding  yours.  And,  dear 
Aunt  Eunice,  she  asked  me  many  questions  which  I  could 
not  answer.  Now  that  I  arrive  upon  the  Father  of  Waters,  I 
am  prudent  and  docile.  I  whisper  no  word  which  may 
awake  the  proud  Spaniard  against  the  hasty  Gaul  or  the  neu 
tral  American.  I  reveal  no  secret,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  in  the 
presence  of  the  taciturn  Briton :  all  the  same  I  look  on  and 
wonder.  The  only  place  for  my  inquiries  —  where  I  can  at 
once  show  my  modesty  and  my  ignorance  —  is  at  the  hospit 
able  board  of  Miss  Eunice  Perry.  She  soothes  me  with 
gumbo  file',  she  bribes  me  with  red-fish  and  pompano  ;  in  the 
distance  I  see  cotelettes  and  vol-au-vents,  and  I  know  not 
what  else,  which  she  has  prepared  to  purchase  my  silence. 
All  the  same,  I  throw  myself  at  the  feet  of  this  company, 
own  my  gross  ignorance,  and  ask  for  light. 

"  Let  me,  dear  Mr.  Lonsdale,  answer  your  question  as  I 
can.  Many  generals  have  I  met,  in  battle,  in  camp,  or  in 
the  ballroom.  Gen.  Bonaparte  is  my  protector ;  Gen.  Mo- 
reau  examined  me  in  tactics  ;  Gen.  Casa  Bianca  is  my  friend ; 
Gen.  Hamilton  is  my  distinguished  countryman.  But  who, 
my  dear  Aunt  Eunice,  is  Gen.  Bowles  ?  and  of  what  nation 
was  the  somewhat  remarkable  uniform  which  he  wore  the  day 
I  had  the  honor  to  meet  you,  and  to  assure  you  that  you  had 
grown  young  under  your  anxieties  for  your  nephew  ? " 

Now,  if  there  were  a  subject  which  Eunice  would  have 
wished  to  have  avoided  at  that  moment,  it  was  the  subject 
which  the  audacious  young  fellow  had  introduced. 

In  spite  of  her,  her  face  flushed. 

"  He  served  against  the  Spaniards  at  Pensacola,"  said 
she,  with  as  much  calmness  as  she  could  command.  Every 
body  was  looking  at  her,  so  that  she  could  not  signal  him  to 
silence ;  and  Mr.  Lonsdale  was  close  at  her  side,  so  that  he 
heard  every  word. 


z86  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"  A  countryman  of  yours,  Mr.  Lonsdale  ?  Where,  then, 
was  the  red  coat  ?  where  the  Star  and  Garter  ? " 

Lonsdale  was  not  quick  enough  to  follow  this  badinage ;  or 
he  was  perhaps  as  much  annoyed  as  Eunice,  that  the  sub 
ject  was  opened. 

"  Gen.  Bowles  is  not  in  the  king's  service,"  he  said  ;  "  yet 
he  is  well  thought  of  at  the  Foreign  Office.  I  dined  with  him 
at  Lord  Hawksbury's." 

"  At  Lord  Hawksbury's  ? "  said  Mr.  Perry,  surprised  out 
of  the  silence  he  had  maintained  all  along. 

Lonsdale  certainly  was  annoyed  this  time,  and  annoyed  at 
his  own  carelessness  ;  for  he  would  not  have  dropped  the 
words,  had  he  had  a  moment  for  thought.  His  face  flushed, 
but  he  said,  — 

"  Yes.  It  was  rather  a  curious  party.  Gen.  Miranda  was 
thejre,  who  means  to  free  Mexico  and  Cuba  and  the  Spanish 
main,  —  the  South  American  Washington  of  the  future,  Miss 
Inez.  This  Gen.  Bowles  was  there,  in  the  same  fanciful  uni 
form  he  wears  to-day.  There  was  an  attache  of  your  lega 
tion  there,  I  forget  his  name ;  and  no  end  of  people  who 
spoke  no  English.  But  I  understood  that  Gen.  Bowles  was 
an  American.  I  did  not  suppose  I  should  be  the  person  to 
introduce  him  to  you." 

"Why  does  Lord  Hawksbury  ask  Gen.  Bowles  to  meet 
Gen.  Miranda,  sir  ? "  said  Roland,  turning  to  his  father. 

"Why  do  I  ask  an  eleve  of  the  ficole  Polytechnique  to 
meet*Mr.  Lonsdale  ?  —  Mr.  Lonsdale,  that  Bordeaux  wine  is 
good;  but,  if  you  hold  to  your  island  prejudices,  Ransom 
shall  bring  us  some  port  which  my  own  agent  bought  in  Por 
tugal." 

"  I  hold  by  the  claret,"  said  Lonsdale,  relieved,  as  Roland 
thought,  that  the  subject  was  at  an  end.  Now,  Roland  had 
no  thought  of  relieving  him.  If  Englishmen  came  to  Amer 
ica,  he  meant  to  make  them  show  their  colors. 

"  No  man  tells  me,"  he  said,  "  what  nation  that  is  whose 
major-generals  wear  green  frock-coats  cut  like  Robin  Hood's. 


OK,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS:''  287 

with  wampum  embroidered  on  the  cuffs.  I  am  only  told 
that  this  unknown  nation  is  in  alliance  with  King  George 
and  Gen.  Miranda." 

"  Gen.  Bowles  is  the  chief  of  an  Indian  tribe  in  this 
region,  I  think,"  said  Lonsdale,  rather  stiffly. 

"  Oho ! "  cried  the  impetuous  young  fellow,  "  and  the 
Creeks  and  the  Greasers,  with  some  assistance  from  Lord 
Hawksbury  and  King  George,  are  to  drive  the  King  of  Spain 
out  of  Mexico.  Is  that  on  the  cards,  Mr.  Lonsdale  ?  " 

Lonsdale  looked  more  confused  than  ever. 

"  You  must  ask  your  father,  Mr.  Perry.  He  is  the  diplo 
matist,  you  say." 

"  But  is  this  what  the  Governor  of  Canada  is  bothering 
about  ?  Is  this  what  he  sent  Chisholm  and  Conolly  for,  sir  ? " 
said  Roland,  turning  to  his  father.  "  Not  so  bad  a  plot,  if  it 
is." 

The  truth  is,  that  Roland's  head  was  turned  with  the  mili 
tary  atmosphere  in  which  he  had  lived ;  and,  like  half  the 
youngsters  of  his  time,  he  hoped  that  some  good  cause  might 
open  up,  in  which  he,  too,  could  win  spurs  and  glory. 

At  the  allusion  to  Chisholm  and  Conolly,  two  secret  agents 
of  the  Canadian  Government  in  the  Valley  of  the  Missis 
sippi,  Inez  turned  to  look  gravely  upon  her  aunt.  As,  by 
good  luck,  Mr.  Lonsdale's  face  was  also  turned  toward 
Eunice,  Inez  seized  the  happy  opportunity  to  twirl  her  knife 
as  a  chief  might  his  scalping-knife.  Ma-ry  understood  no 
little  of  the  talk,  but  managed,  savage-like,  to  keep  her 
reserve.  Mr.  Perry  felt  his  son's  boldness,  and  was  troubled 
by  it.  He  knew  that  all  this  talk  must  be  annoying  to  the 
Englishman. 

"  The  plot  was  a  very  foolish  plot,  Roland,  if  it  were  such 
a  plot  as  you  propose.  If  John  Adams  had  been  chosen 
president  again,  instead  of  this  man  who  is  called  so  pacific, 
—  if  some  things  had  not  been  done  on  the  other  side  which 
have  been  done,  —  I  think  Gen.  Hamilton  might  have 
brought  a  few  thousand  of  our  countrymen  down  the  river, 


288  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

with  Gen.  Wilkinson  to  show  him  the  wav.  Mr.  Lonsdale 
can  tell  you  whether  Admiral  Nelson  would  have  been  wait 
ing  here  with  a  fleet ;  they  do  say  there  have  been  a  few  frig 
ates  in  the  Gulf :  as  it  is,  all  I  know  is,  that  fortunately  for 
us  we  found  the  '  Firefly '  there.  Mr.  Lonsdale  knows,  per 
haps,  whether  a  few  regiments  from  Canada  might  not  have 
joined  our  men  in  the  excursion.  But  we  have  changed  all 
that,  my  boy  ;  and  you  must  take  your  tactics  and  your  strate 
gies  to  some  other  field  of  glory." 

The  truth  was,  that  all  the  scheme  of  which  Mr.  Perry 
spoke  had  been  wrought  out  in  the  well-kept  secrecy  of  John 
Adams's  cabinet.  As  he  said  himself  once,  such  talent  as 
he  had  was  for  making  war,  more  than  for  making  peace. 

As  it  proved,  the  majestic,  and  to  us  friendly  policy  of  the 
great  Napoleon,  gave  us  Louisiana  without  a  blow ;  but  in 
the  long  line  of  onslaughts  upon  Spain,  which  the  United 
States  have  had  to  do  with,  this  was  the  first. 

The  first  Adams  is  the  historical  leader  of  the  filibusters. 

Miss  Inez  did  not  care  a  great  deal  about  the  politics  of 
the  conversation.  What  she  did  care  for  was,  that  Lonsdale 
appeared  to  be  uncomfortable.  This  delighted  her.  Was  he 
Chisholm  ?  was  he  Conolly  ?  Her  father  had  hushed  up 
Roland,  with  a  purpose.  She  could  see  that.  But  she  did 
not  see  that  this  involved  any  cessation  in  that  guerilla  war 
with  which  he  persecuted  the  Englishman. 

"  That  must  have  been  a  very  interesting  party  which  you 
describe,  Mr.  Lonsdale.  Is  Lord  Hawksbury  a  good  talker? " 

"  Yes  —  hardly  —  no,  Miss  Perry.  He  talks  as  most  of 
those  men  in  office  do  :  he  is  all  things  to  all  men." 

"  Was  the  Duke  of  Clarence  there  ? "  said  Inez,  with  one 
bold,  wild  shot.  Since  Ransom  had  expressed  the  opinion 
that  their  guest  was  this  gentleman,  Inez  was  determined  to 
know. 

Lonsdale's  face  flushed  fire  this  time ;  or  she  thought  it 
did. 

"The  duke  was  there,"  he  said:  "it  was  just  before  he 
sailed  for  Halifax." 


Ofi,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  289 

But  here  Eunice  came  to  his  relief.  She  looked  daggers 
at  the  impertinent  girl,  asked  Mr.  Lonsdale  some  question  as 
to  Lieut.  Drapier,  and  Inez  and  Roland  were  both  so  far 
hushed  that  no  further  secrets  of  state  were  discussed  on 
that  occasion. 


ago  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ? 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

"  WHERE  SHALL  SHE  GO  ?  " 

"  From  her  infant  days, 
With  Wisdom,  mother  of  retired  thoughts, 
Her  soul  had  dwelt ;  and  she  was  quick  to  mark 
The  good  and  evil  thing,  in  human  lore 
Undisciplined." 

COLERIDGE. 

THE  White  Hawk  dropped  into  her  new  life  with  a  sim 
plicity  and  naturalness  which  delighted  everybody.  From 
the  beginning  Silas  Perry  was  charmed  with  her.  It  was  not 
that  he  tolerated  her  as  he  would  have  tolerated  any  person 
whom  Eunice  had  thought  best  to  introduce  to  his  house : 
it  was  that  by  rapid  stages  he  began  by  liking  her,  then  was 
fond  of  her,  and  then  loved  her.  She  was  quite  mistress  of 
the  spoken  English,  so  much  so  that  Inez  began  to  fear  that 
she  would  lose  her  pretty  savage  idioms  and  fascinating 
blunders.  Indeed,  there  were  a  few  Apache  phrases  which 
Inez  insisted  on  retaining,  with  some  slight  modifications,  in 
their  daily  conversation.  How  much  French  and  Spanish  the 
girl  understood,  nobody  but  herself  knew.  She  never  spoke 
in  either  language. 

It  would  be  almost  fair  to  say  that  Roland  taught  her  more 
than  Inez  did.  In  the  first  place,  he  taught  Inez  a  good  deal 
which  it  was  well  for  a  provincial  girl  —  a  girl  of  two  cities 
as  petty  as  Orleans  and  San  Antonio  —  to  learn,  if  she  could 
learn  it  from  her  brother,  seeing  her  life  had  been  so  much 
restricted,  and  her  outlook  so  much  circumscribed.  Roland 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  291 

was  quick  and  impulsive ;  so,  indeed,  was  the  White  Hawk ; 
but  he  was  always  patient  in  explaining  himself  to  her,  and 
he  would  not  permit  Inez,  for  mere  love's  sake,  or  fancy's 
sake,  to  overlook  little  savageries  as  he  called  them,  in  the 
girl's  habit  or  life,  merely  because  they  seemed  pretty  to  her. 
"  She  is  an  American  girl,"  said  he :  "  by  the  grace  of  God 
you  have  rescued  her  from  these  devils,  and  she  shall  never 
be  annoyed  by  having  people  call  her  a  redskin."  And  never 
had  teacher  a  quicker  pupil,  never  had  Mentor  a  Telemachus 
more  willing,  than  the  White  Hawk  proved  to  be  under  the 
grave  tutelage  of  Inez  and  her  brother. 

These  pages,  which  are  transparent  as  truth  herself,  may 
here  reveal  one  thing  more.  The  present  reader,  also,  has 
proved  herself  sharp-sighted  as  Lynceus  since  she  engaged 
in  reading  these  humble  annals  of  the  past.  This  reader  has 
observed,  therefore,  from  the  moment  the  "  Firefly  "  met  the 
"Antoinette"  in  the  South  Pass,  that  the  handsome  young 
American  gentleman,  and  the  beautiful  girl  rescued  from 
captivity,  were  placed  in  very  near  propinquity  to  each  other, 
a:.d  that  they  remained  so.  The  author  has  not  for  a  moment 
•;  oiled  this  fact  from  the  reader,  who  is,  indeed,  too  sharp- 
F'ghted  to  be  trifled  with. 

It  is  now  to  be  stated  that  the  White  Hawk  observed  it 
quite  as  soon  as  the  reader  has  done.  The  White  Hawk 
maintained  a  very  simple  as  it  was  a  very  intimate  and  sweet 
relation  with  Roland  Perry  whenever  she  and  he  were  with 
Inez  and  Eunice,  or  the  rest  of  the  group  which  daily  gathered 
at  his  father's.  But  the  White  Hawk  very  seldom  found  herself 
alone  with  Roland  Perry;  and,  when  she  did,  the  interview  was 
a  very  short  one.  Roland  found  himself  sometimes  retiring 
early  from  the  counting-room,  wishing  that  she  might  be  in 
the  way.  But  she  never  was  in  the  way.  He  would  prepare 
one  and  another  expedition  to  the  lake,  to  the  plantation- 
house,  and  the  like.  On  such  expeditions  the  White  Hawk 
went  freely  if  the  whole  party  went ;  but  not  for  a  walk  or 
ride  out  to  the  English  Turn,  did  she  go  with  him  alone, 


2Q2  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Roland  Perry  did  not  know  whether  this  was  accident  or  no , 
did  not  even  ask,  perhaps.  But  it  is  as  well  that  this  reader 
should  understand  the  girl,  and  should  know  it  was  no 
accident  at  all. 

One  day  they  had  all  gone  together  to  a  pretty  meadow  by 
the  lake,  under  the  pretence  of  seeing  some  races  which  the 
officers  of  the  garrison  had  arranged.  Roland  took  the 
occasion  to  try  his  chances  in  sounding  Ma-ry  about  a  matter 
where  he  had  not  had  full  success  in  his  consultations  with 
his  aunt. 

"  Ma-ry,"  said  he,  "  tell  me  about  the  night  when  Inez  was 
lost  in  Texas,  —  by  the  river,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  poor  Inez !     She  was  so  tired  !  she  was  so  cold  !  " 

"  How  in  the  world  did  you  find  her  ?  " 

"  Oh,  ho  !  Easy  to  find  her !  I  went  where  she  went. 
Footstep  here,  footstep  there,  footstep  all  along.  Leaf  here 
and  leaf  there  —  broken  leaf,  torn  leaf  —  all  along.  Then  I 
heard  her  cry.  She  cried  war-whoop,  —  hoo,  hoo,  hoo! — just 
as  I  taught  her  one  day.  Easy  to  find  her." 

"  And  you  brought  her  in  on  your  back  ?  "    , 

"  No :  nonsense,  Mr.  Perry.  You  know  she  came  on  foot, 
the  same  as  she  walks  now  with  Mr.  Lonsdale." 

"  And  the  others  —  were  they  all  at  home  while  you  looked 
for  her?" 

"  At  home  ?  Dear  auntie  was  by  the  fire,  waiting,  and 
praying  to  the  good  God.  Ransom,  he  built  up  the  fire, 
made  it  burn,  so  I  saw  the  smoke,  red  smoke,  high,  high, 
above  the  black-jacks  and  the  hack-berries.  Black  men,  — 
some  at  home,  some  away.  All  the  rest  were  gone." 

"  This  Capt.  Harrod,  —  where  was  he,  Ma-ry  ?  " 

"Oh!  Capt.  Harrod?  Capt.  Will  Harrod  ?  Capt.  Harrod 
rode,  —  had  rode,  — no,  Capt.  Harrod  had  ridden  back.  All 
wrong ;  all  wrong.  Had  ridden  back  on  the  trail  —  on  the 
old  trail ;  ridden  fast,  ridden  well,  ridden  brave,  but  all 
wrong.  Had  ridden  back  to  camp  where  we  had  lunch  that 
same  day.  All  wrong.  Poor  Capt.  Harrod ! " 


OK,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  293 

"  Why  did  he  ride  back,  Ma-ry,  if  it  was  all  wrong  ? " 

"  Capt.  Harrod  not  know.  Capt.  Harrod  saw  Inez's  foot 
mark.  Capt.  Harrod  saw  it  was  moccason  mark ;  all  the 
same  moccason  Inez  wore  at  breakfast  this  morning.  Capt. 
Harrod  see  moccason  mark  ;  no,  saw  moccason  mark.  Capt. 
Harrod  thought  it  Apache  boy;  thought  Apaches  caught 
Inez,  —  carry  her  away,  same  like  they  carry  Ma-ry  away  — 
carry  me  away." 

"  And  he  went  after  them  ?  " 

"  All  men  went,  —  all  but  Ransom  and  the  black  men  and 
Richards.  All  went  —  rode  fast,  fast  —  very  fast ;  and  found 
no  Inez." 

And  the  girl  laughed.  "  Inez  all  happy  by  the  fire.  Inez 
all  asleep  in  the  tent." 

"  Ma-ry,  was  Capt.  Harrod  very  good  to  Inez  ?  " 

And  so  you  think,  Master  Roland  Perry,  that,  because  this 
girl  is  a  savage,  you  are  going  to  draw  your  sister's  secrets 
out  of  her,  do  you  ?  Much  do  you  know  of  the  loyalty  of 
women  to  women,  when  they  choose  to  be  loyal. 

"  Capt.  Harrod  very  good  to  Inez,  very  good  to  auntie, 
very  good  to  Ma-ry :  "  this  with  the  first  look  analogous  to 
coquetry  that  Roland  had  ever  seen  in  his  pupil. 

"  Good  to  everybody,  eh  ?  And  who  rode  with  Capt. 
Harrod,  or  with  whom  did  he  ride  as  you  travelled  ?  Who 
rode  with  Inez  ?  Who  rode  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  rode  with  him,  auntie  rode  with  him  ; "  and  then,  cor 
recting  herself,  "  he  rode  with  me :  he  rode  with  auntie. 
Auntie  very  pleasant  with  him.  Talk,  talk,  talk,  all  morn 
ing.  I  not  understand  them.  Talk,  talk,  talk.  Inez  and 
Ma-ry  nde  together." 

This  was  a  combination  of  pieces  which  Roland  had  not 
thought  of.  He  followed  out  the  hint. 

"  How  old  was  Capt.  Harrod,  Ma-ry  ?  " 

"  Old  ?     I  do  not  know.     He  never  said  ;  I  never  asked." 

"  No,  no !  you  never  asked ;  but  was  he  as  old  as  Ransom  ? 
Was  he  as  old  as  my  father  ?  " 

Ma-ry  laughed  heartily. 


294  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"  No,  no  !     No,  no,  no  !  " 

"  Was  he  as  old  as  —  Mr.  Lonsdale  there  ? " 

"  Me  no  know  —  I  mean  I  do  not  know.  Mr.  Lonsdale 
never  tell  me  ; "  and  she  laughed  again. 

"  Which  was  older,  —  Harrod,  or  Nolan  ?  " 

"  Oh !  I  never  see,  I  never  seed  —  I  never  saw  Capt.  Phil. 
Capt.  Nolan  all  gone  before  I  saw  Inez.  I  saw  Inez  at 
Nacogdoches." 

"  And  did  Inez  like  Capt.  Harrod  very  much,  Ma-ry  ?  " 

"  Oh,  ho !  I  think  so.  I  like  him  very  much.  Auntie, 
oh !  auntie  like  him  very  much.  Oh !  I  think  Inez  like  him 
very  much.  Ask  her,  Mr.  Roland  ;  ask  her."  And  the  girl 
called,  "  Inez,  my  darling,  Inez,  come  here !  " 

But  Inez  did  not  hear :  perhaps  it  was  not  meant  that  she 
should  hear. 

"  No,  no  !  "  said  Master  Roland  interrupting,  but  so  much 
of  a  man  still  that  he  did  not  know  that  this  little  savage 
girl  was  playing  with  him.  "  Do  not  call  her.  She  can  tell 
me  what  she  chooses.  But,  Ma-ry  dear,  what  makes  Inez 
unhappy  ?  When  she  is  alone,  she  cries :  I  know  she  does. 
I  see  her  eyes  are  red.  When  she  is  with  us  all,  she  laughs 
and  talks  more  than  she  wants  to.  She  makes  believe, 
Ma-ry.  Ma-ry,  what  is  the  trouble,  the  sorrow  of  Inez  ?  " 

No,  Roland :  Ma-ry  is  very  fond  of  Inez,  and  she  is  very 
fond  of  you ;  but  if  you  want  Inez's  secrets  you  must  go  to 
Inez  for  them.  This  girl  of  the  woods  will  not  betray  them. 

"Inez  very,  very  fond  of  Capt.  Phil  Nolan.  Inez  very, 
very  sorry  for  poor  lady  who  is  dead,  and  little  baby  boy. 
When  Capt.  Phil  Nolan  was  here,  here  in  Orleans,  Capt. 
Phil  Nolan  told  her,  told  Inez,  all  story,  —  all  the  story  of 
beautiful  girl  who  is  dead.  Fanny,  —  Fanny  Lintot.  Capt. 
Phil  Nolan  showed  Inez  picture  —  pretty  picture,  —  oh,  so 
pretty!  —  of  Fanny  Lintot.  Told  her  secret.  Inez  told  no 
one.  No,  Inez  not  tell  auntie,  not  tell  me.  Now  gone,  all 
gone.  Fanny  Lintot  dead.  Capt.  Nolan  dead.  Only  little, 
little  baby  boy.  Poor  Fanny  Lintot !  Poor  Inez  very  sorry. 


OR,   "SHOW   YOUR  PASSPORTS."  29$ 

But,  Mr.  Roland,  you  not  ask  her.  No,  no,  no !  do  not  ask 
her." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Roland,  led  away  by  the  girl's  eagerness, 
and  not  aware,  indeed,  at  the  moment,  that  he  had  been 
foiled. 

Mr.  Silas  Perry  had  soon  made  the  same  remark  which  the 
eagle-eyed  reader  of  these  pages  has  made,  that  his  son  and 
his  ward  were  thrown  into  very  close  "  propinquity,"  and  into 
very  near  communion.  He  had,  or  thought  he  had,  reasons, 
not  for  putting  an  actual  stop  to  it,  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
for  not  encouraging  it ;  and  he  speculated  not  a  little  as  to 
the  best  way  to  separate  these  young  people  a  little  more 
than  in  the  easy  circumstances  of  their  daily  life.  He  had 
consulted  his  sister  once  and  ngain  in  his  questionings.  She 
had  proposed  a  removal  to  the  plantation.  But  he  dreaded 
to  take  this  step.  The  exigencies  of  his  business  required 
his  presence  in  the  city  almost  every  day.  He  was  happy  in 
his  family ;  and,  after  so  long  a  parting,  he  hated  to  be  parted 
long  again. 

Matters  brought  themselves  to  a  crisis,  however.  He 
came  into  Eunice's  room  one  evening  in  serio-comic  despair. 

"  Eunice,  you  must  do  something  with  your  Indian  girl. 
She  is  on  your  hands,  not  on  mine.  What  do  you  think?  I 
saw  something  light  outside  the  paling  just  now.  I  went  out 
to  see  what  it  might  be,  in  the  gloaming;  and  there  was 
Ma-ry,  bobbing  at  a  crawfish  hole  for  crawfish,  as  quietly  as 
you  are  mending  that  stocking.  She  might  have  been  little 
Dinah,  for  all  anxiety  about  her  position.  She  never 
dreamed,  dear  child,  that  it  was  out  of  the  way." 

"What  did  you  say?"  said  Eunice,  laughing. 

"  It  was  not  in  my  heart  to  scold  her.  I  asked  her  what 
her  luck  was  "  — 

"  And  then  looked  for  another  crawfish  hole,  and  sat  down 
and  fished  by  her  side  ? " 

"  No,"  said  he  ;  "  not  quite  so  bad  as  that.  I  told  her  it 
was  late,  that  she  must  not  stay  out  late  ;  and  she  gathered 


296  PHIL  IP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS', 

up  her  prizes  prettily,  and  brought  them  in.  She  never 
resists  you  a  moment ;  that  is  the  reason  why  she  twirls  us 
all  round  her  ringers.  I  don't  know  what  to  do.  It  would 
break  Inez's  heart  to  send  her  away,  not  to  say  mine.  She 
gave  Chloe  the  crawfish  for  breakfast." 

"  There  is  Squam  Bay  ?  "  said  Eunice  interrogatively, 

"  I  had  thoughts  of  Squam  Bay.  Heavens,  how  she  would 
upset  the  proprieties  there !  I  wonder  what  Parson  Forbes 
would  make  of  her.  I  would  almost  send  her  to  Squam  Bay 
for  the  fun  of  seeing  the  explosion. 

"  You  see,"  after  a  pause,  "  Squam  Bay  is  better  than  the 
'nuns  here,  and  it  is  worse.  The  nuns  will  teach  her  to 
embroider,  and  to  talk  French,  and  to  keep  secrets,  and  to 
hide  things.  The  people  there  will  teach  her  to  tell  the  truth, 
where  she  needs  no  teaching ;  to  work,  where  she  needs  no 
teaching ;  to  wash  and  to  iron ;  to  make  succotash ;  and  to 
reconcile  the  five  points  of  Calvinism  with  one  another,  and 
with  infinite  love.  But  this  is  to  be  considered:  with  the 
nuns  she  is  close  to  us,  and  Squam  Bay  is  very  far  off,  par 
ticularly  if  there  should  be  war." 

"  Always  war  ? "  asked  Eunice  anxiously. 

What  troubled  Eunice  was  that  this  conversation,  having 
come  to  this  point,  never  went  any  farther.  Forty  times  had 
her  brother  come  about  as  far  as  this  ;  but  forty  times  he 
had  put  off  till  next  week  any  determination,  and  next  week 
never  came.  The  girl  was  too  dear  to  him ;  her  pretty  ways 
were  becoming  too  necessary  for  him  ;  Inez  was  too  fond  of 
her  ;  and  home-life,  just  thus  and  so,  was  too  charming.  At 
any  given  moment  he  hated  to  break  the  spell,  and  to  destroy 
all. 

This  was,  however,  the  last  of  these  conferences.  The 
next  morning,  immediately  after  family  prayers,  Silas  Perry 
beckoned  his  sister  into  his  own  den. 

"  It  is  all  settled,"  he  said  half  gayly,  half  dolefully. 

"  What  is  settled  ? " 

"  Ma-ry  yonder,  the  savage,  is  to  go  to  the  Ursulines." 


OK,   "SfiOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  297 

"Who  settled  that?"  asked  Eunice,  supposing  this  was 
only  the  forty-first  phase  of  the  talk  of  which  last  night 
showed  the  fortieth. 

"Who  settled  it?  Why,  Ma-ry  settled  it.  Who  settles 
every  thing  in  this  house  ?  What  is  the  old  story  ?  It  is 
repeated  here.  Ma-ry  manages  Ransom ;  Ma-ry  manages 
Inez  ;  Ma-ry  manages  vou.  And  you  and  Inez  and  Ransom 
manage  me." 

"  We  and  Roland,"  said  Eunice. 

"  As  you  will.  If  Ma-ry  does  not  manage  him  too,  I  am 
much  mistaken.  Any  way,  the  dear  child  has  given  her 
directions  this  time,  with  as  quiet  determination  as  if  she 
had  been  yourself,  and  with  as  distinct  eye  down  the  future 
as  if  she  had  been  Parson  Forbes.  She  wants  to  go  to  the 
Ursulines,  and  to  the  Ursulines  she  is  to  go." 

The  Ursulines'  convent  was  at  this  moment  the  only 
school  for  girls,  of  any  account,  in  Orleans,  not  to  say  in 
Louisiana. 

"  What  did  she  say  ? " 

"  She  said  that  all  the  things  she  knew  were  things  of  the 
woods  and  the  prairies  and  the  rivers.  She  said  Inez  was 
kind,  too  kind  ;  that  you  were  kind,  too  kind ;  that  every 
body  was  kind.  But  she  said  that  she  was  never  to  go  back 
to  the  woods,  never  to  live  in  them.  She  must  learn  to  do 
what  women  did  here.  If  she  staid  in  this  house,  I  should 
spoil  her.  She  did  not  put  it  in  these  words,  but  that  was 
what  she  meant.  If  she  went  to  the  nuns,  she  should  study 
all  the  time,  and  should  never  play.  Here,  she  said,  it  was 
hard,  very  hard,  not  to  play." 

"  What  will  Inez  say  ?  " 

"  I  dare  not  guess.     Ma-ry  has  gone  to  tell  her." 

"  And  what  will  Roland  say  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  nor  do  I  know  who  will  tell  him." 


2g8  PHILIP  NOLAN  S  FRIENDS  ; 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

MOTHER  AND  CHILD. 

"  Smile  not,  my  child, 

But  sleep  deeply  and  sweetly,  and  so  beguiled 
Of  the  pang  that  awaits  us,  whatever  that  be 
So  dreadful,  since  thou  must  divide  it  with  me." 

SHELLEY. 

So  it  was  settled,  and  settled  by  herself,  that  poor  Ma-ry 
should  go  into  a  convent-school.  The  freest  creature  on 
earth  was  to  be  shut  up  in  the  most  complicated  system  of 
surveillance. 

Ransom  was  well-nigh  beside  himself  when  he  found 
that  this  step  had  been  determined  on,  in  face  of  his  known 
views,  and,  indeed,  without  even  the  pretence  of  consulta 
tion  with  him.  , For  the  next  day  gloom  was  in  all  his 
movements.  He  would  not  bring  Mr.  Perry  the  claret  that 
he  liked,  and  pretended  there  was  none  left.  He  carried 
off  the  only  pair  of  pumps  which  Roland  could  wear  to 
the  governor's  ball,  and  pretended  they  needed  mending. 
Inez  sent  him  for  her  hat;  and  he  would  not  find  it,  and 
pretended  he  could  not.  For  a  day  the  family  was  made  to 
amderstand  that  Ransom  was  deeply  displeased. 

He  made  a  moment  for  a  conference  with  Ma-ry,  as  he 
.•strapped  her  trunk.  The  only  consolation  he  had  had  was 
rthe  selection  of  this  trunk,  at  a  little  shop  where  they  brought 
•.such  things  from  France. 

"  Ma-ry,"  said  he,  "  they'll  want  you  to  go  on  your  knees 
before  them  painted  eye-dolls.  Don't  ye  do  it.  They  can't 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  299 

make  ye  noway,  and  ye  mustn't  do  it.  Say  ye  prayers  as 
Miss  Eunice  taught  ye,  and  don't  say  'em  to  eye-dolls. 
They'll  tell  ye  to  lie  and  steal.  Don't  ye  do  it.  Let  um  lie 
as  much  as  they  want  to ;  but  don't  ye  believe  the  fust  word 
they  tell  ye.  They  won't  give  ye  nothin'  10  eat  but  frogs, 
and  not  enough  of  them.  Don't  ye  mind.  I'll  send  round 
myself  a  basket  twice  a  week.  They  won't  let  me  come 
myself,  'cause  they  won't  have  no  men  near  um  but  them 
black-coated  priests,  all  beggars,  all  on  um,  and  them  others 
with  brown  nightgowns.  Let  them  come ;  but  I  shall  make 
old  Chloe  go  round,  or  Salome,  that's  the  other  one,  twice  a 
week  with  a  basket,  and  sunthin'  good  in  it,  and  anough  for 
three  days.  An'  you  keep  the  basket,  Ma-ry,  and  sponge  it 
out,  and  give  it  back  to  her  next  time  she  comes.  Don't  let 
them  nuns  get  the  baskets,  'cause  they  ain't  any  more  like 
um.  They's  white-oak  baskets,  made  in  a  place  up  behind 
Atkinson ;  they  ain't  but  one  man  knows  how  to  make  um, 
an*  I  make  old  Turner  bring  um  down  here  to  me.  Don't 
ye  let  the  nuns  get  the  baskets." 

Ma-ry  promised  compliance  with  all  his  directions ;  and  the 
certainty  of  outwitting  the  "  eye-dollaters  "  on  the  matter  of 
her  diet  threw  a  little  gleam  of  comfort  over  the  old  man's 
sadness. 

She  went  to  the  Ursulines.  The  Ursulines  received  her 
with  the  greatest  tenderness,  and  thought  they  never  had  a 
ittore  obedient  pupil. 

And  this  was  the  chief  event  in  the  family  history  of  that 
winter.  With  the  spring  other  changes  came,  necessitated 
by  a  removal  to  the  plantation.  Although  this  was  by  no 
means  Silas  Perry's  chief  interest,  he  had  great  pride  in  it ; 
and  he  did  not  choose  to  have  it  in  the  least  behind  the  plan 
tations  of  his  Creole  neighbors.  Roland  had  brought  from 
the  polytechnic  school  some  pet  theories  of  science  which  he 
was  eager  to  apply  in  the  sugar-mills ;  and  he  did  not  find  it 
difficult  to  persuade  Lonsdale  to  join  him,  even  for  weeks  at 
a  time,  when  he  went  up  the  coast.  A  longer  expedition, 


300  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

however,  called  them  away,  both  from  the  cot  nting-house  and 
from  the  plantation. 

Gen.  Bowles  had  not  forgotten  his  promise.  Inez  and 
Roland  both  twitted  Aunt  Eunice  with  her  conquest  over  this 
handsome  adventurer.  It  was  in  vain  that  Eunice  said  that 
he  was  well  known  to  have  one  wife,  and  was  even  said  to 
have  many.  All  the  more  they  insisted  that  no  one  knew 
but  all  these  savage  ladies  might  have  been  scalped  in  some 
internecine  or  Kilkennyish  brawl,  and  that  the  general  might 
be  seeking  a  more  pacific  helpmeet.  The  truth  about  Gen. 
Bowles  was,  that  he  was  one  of  the  wildest  adventurers  of  any 
time.  Born  in  Maryland,  he  had  enlisted  in  King  George's 
army  just  after  Germantown  and  Brandywine.  He  had  been 
a  prosperous  chief  of  the  Creeks.  He  had  conferred,  equal 
with  equal,  with  the  generals  who  had  commanded  him  in  the 
English  army  only  a  few  years  before.  He  had  been  an  artist 
and  an  actor,  in  his  checkered  life  ;  he  had  been  in  Spanish 
prisons,  and  had  been  presented  at  the  English  court. 

One  day,  when  a  very  distinguished  Indian  embassy  had 
brought  in  a  letter  from  him  to  Eunice,  Roland  undertook  to 
explain  all  this  to  Mr.  Lonsdale. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  Lonsdale,"  said  the  impudent  youngster 
Roland,  who  had  chosen  to  give  this  account  to  him,  as  coolly 
as,  on  another  occasion,  he  had  cross-questioned  him  about 
the  same  man,  "  and  now,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  weary  of  diplomacy, 
he  proposes  to  leave  the  throne  of  Creekdom.  He  lays  his 
crown  at  Miss  Perry's  feet ;  and  she  has  only  to  say  one  little 
word,  and  he  will  become  a  sugar-planter  of  distinction  on 
the  Cote  des  Acadiens,  with  Miss  Perry  as  his  helpmeet,  to 
cure  the  diseases  of  his  people,  and  with  Mr.  Roland  Perry, 
atuien  'eteve  de  F  Ecole  Polytechnique,  to  direct  the  crystalliza 
tion  of  his  sugar." 

The  truth  was,  as  it  must  be  confessed,  that  the  general's 
letters  had  usually  been  made  out  of  very  slender  capital 
He  would  write  to  say  that  he  was  afraid  his  last  letter  had 
miscarried,  or  that  he  should  like  to  know  if  Miss  Ma-ry 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  301 

remembered  a  house  with  a  chimney  at  each  end ,  whether 
she  had  ever  seen  a  saw-mill,  or  the  like  For  a  man  who 
had  nothing  to  say,  Gen.  Bowles  certainly  wrote  to  Miss 
Perry  a  great  many  letters  that  winter.  But  on  this  occasion 
Eunice  was  so  much  absorbed,  as  she  read,  that  she  did  not 
give  the  least  attention  to  Roland's  raillery. 

"  Hear  this  !  hear  this !  Roland,  go  call  your  father. 
This  really  means  something." 

Mr.  Perry  came,  on  the  summons. 

Eunice  began :  — 

GENERAL  BOWLES  TO  Miss  PERRY. 

TALLADEGA,  CREEK  NATION,  April  19,  1802. 

MY  DEAR  Miss  PERRY,  —  I  can  at  last  send  you  some  tidings  which 
mean  something.  If  you  knew  the  regret  which  I  have  felt  in  sending 
you  so  little  news  before,  you  would  understand  my  pleasure  now  that  I 
really  believe  I  may  be  of  some  use  to  your  charming  prottgie. 

"Well  begun,"  said  the  irreverent  Roland.  "We  shall 
come  to  the  sugar-plantation  on  the  next  page." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  sir,"  said  his  father ;  and  Eunice  read 
on :  — 

I  have  just  returned  from  a  "  talk,"  so  called,  with  some  of  the  older 
chiefs  of  the  Choctaw  and  Cherokee  nations.  So  soon  as  I  renewed  the 
old  confidence  which  these  men  always  felt  in  me,  I  made  my  first  in 
quiries  as  to  raids  from  the  west  into  the  territories  north  of  us,  in  the 
year  1785,  or  thereabouts.  The  Cherokee  warriors  knew  nothing  of  our 
matter. 

But  the  Choctaw  chiefs,  fortunately,  were  better  informed.  As  to  the 
time  there  can  be  no  question.  It  was  the  year  1784,  well  known  to  all 
these  people  from  some  eclipse  or  other  which  specially  excited  them. 

A  party  of  Choctaw  chiefs,  embodying  all  that  there  are  left  of  the 
once  famous  Natchez,  who,  as  your  brother  tells  us,  have  just  now  ap 
peared  in  literature,  —  a  party  of  Choctaw  chiefs  crossed  the  Mississippi, 
and  even  the  Red  River,  in  quest  of  some  lost  horses.  This  means,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  that  they  went  to  take  other  horses  to  replace  the  lost  ones. 
They  met  a  large  roving  body  of  Apaches.  They  saw  them,  and  they 
were  whipped  by  them.  They  recrossed  the  Mississippi  much  faster  than 
they  went  over. 


302  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

These  savages  of  the  West  had  never,  to  my  knowledge,  crossed  the 
Father  of  Waters.  But  on  this  occasion,  elated  by  their  success,  they  did 
so ;  and  then,  fortunately  for  the  Choctaw  people,  they  forgot  them.  They 
were  far  north  ;  and  hearing  of  a  little  settlement  from  Carolina,  low  down 
on  the  Cumberland  River,  they  pounced  on  it,  and  killed  every  fighting 
man.  They  burned  every  house,  and  stole  every  horse.  Then  the  whites 
above  them  came  down  on  them  so  fast  that  they  retired  as  best  they 
might. 

It  is  they,  I  am  assured,  who  are  the  only  Apaches  who  have  crossed 
the  Mississippi  in  this  generation.  It  is  they,  as  I  believe,  who  seized 
your  little  friend  and  her  mother. 

If  you  have  any  correspondents  in  the  new  State  of '  Tennessee,  they 
ought  to  be  able  to  inform  you  further  regarding  the  outpost  thus  de 
stroyed.  I  cannot  learn  that  it  had  any  name  ;  but  it  was  very  low  on  the 
Cumberland,  and  the  time  was  certainly  November,  1784. 

"  There  is  more !  there  is  more ! "  screamed  Roland,  seeing 
that  his  aunt  stopped. 

"  There  is  nothing  more  about  Ma-ry,"  said  Eunice,  who 
felt  that  she  blushed,  and  was  provoked  beyond  words  that 
she  did  so. 

"  More  !  more  !  "  cried  the  bold  boy,  putting  out  his  hand 
for  the  letter ;  but  his  aunt  folded  it,  and  put  it  in  her  pocket. 

And  a  warning  word  from  his  father,  "  Roland,  behave 
yourself,"  told  the  young  gentleman  that  for  once  he  was 
going  too  far. 


OK.  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  303 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

ON  THE   PLANTATION. 

"  Those  sacred  mysteries,  for  the  vulgar  ear 
Unmeet ;  and  known,  most  impious  to  declare, 
Oh !  let  due  reverence  for  the  gods  restrain 
Discourses  rash,  and  check  inquiries  vain." 

Homeric  Hymns. 

LITTLE  enough  chance  of  finding  any  thing  by  raking  over 
the  wretched  ashes  of  that  village  burned  eighteen  years 
before.  Still  every  one  would  be  glad  to  know  that  the  last 
was  known ;  and,  if  one  aching  heart  could  be  spared  one 
throb  of  agony,  every  one  would  be  glad  to  spare  it. 

The  wonder  and  the  satisfaction  excited  by  Gen.  Bowles's 
letter  held  the  little  party  in  eager  talk  for  five  minutes  ;  and 
then  Mr.  Lonsdale,  who  happened  to  be  of  the  plantation 
party  that  day,  filled  up  the  gap  in  the  practical  and  definite 
way  by  which,  more  than  once,  that  man  of  mystery  had 
distinguished  himself. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  friends  Mr.  Perry  may  have,  or  what 
you  may  have,  in  Tennessee  State,"  said  he  almost  eagerly ; 
•  but  I  hope,  I  trust,  Miss  Perry,  that  you  will  put  your  com 
mission  of  inquiry  into  my  hands.  I  have  loitered  here  in 
your  dolce  far  niente  of  Louisiana  much  longer  than  I  meant, 
as  you  know.  What  with  this  and  that  invitation,  I  have 
staid  and  staid  in  Capua,  as  if,  indeed,  here  were  the  object 
of  my  life.  But  my  measures  were  all  taken  last  week.  I 
asked  Mr.  Hutchings  to  select  a  padrone  and  boatmen  for 
me;  and  he  has  hired  a  boat  which,  I  am  told,  is  just  what 


304.  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

it  should  be.  Pardon  me  for  saying  a  'a  boat:'  I  am  told 
I  must  call  it  a  voiture.  Your  arrangements  are  fairly  Vene 
tian,  Miss  Perry.  Men  seem  to  know  but  one  carriage." 

"  Oh,  call  it  a  galliot !  "  she  said,  "  and  we  shall  know 
what  you  mean." 

"  If  you  would  only  be  Cleopatra,"  said  Mr.  Lonsdale, 
with  high  gallantry,  and  he  bowed. 

"  I  shall  be  late  in  delivering  my  commissions  at  Fort 
Massac  ;  but  I  shall  be  there  before  any  one  else  leaving 
Orleans  this  spring.  Pray  let  me  make  your  inquiries  regard 
ing  this  dear  child's  family." 

Loyally  said,  and  loyally  planned,  Mr.  Lonsdale.  If  this 
man  is  a  diplomatist,  or  whatever  he  be,  he  has  twice  come 
to  the  relief  of  Eunice  by  a  most  signal  service,  offered  in 
the  most  simple  and  manly  way.  Even  the  suspicious  Inez 
looked  her  gratitude,  through  eyes  that  were  filled  with  tears. 

The  plan  was  too  good  not  to  be  acceded  to.  Roland 
begged  to  go  as  a  volunteer  on  the  expedition ;  and  Mr.  Perry 
insisted  on  it,  that  he  must  see  to  the  stores. 

"  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  but  your  countryman  Mr. 
Hutchings  does  not  know  as  we  do  what  the  Mississippi 
demands.  I  shall  provision  your  galliot,  or  rather  Ransom 
will ;  for,  if  I  undertook  to  do  it  without  his  aid,  he  would 
countermand  all  my  directions.  I  may  as  well  from  the  first 
confess  to  him  that  I  am  at  his  mercy." 

"  Take  care,  Mr.  Perry,  for  I  am  almost  as  much  a  favorite 
with  him  as  you  are.  That  is,  his  pity  for  my  ignorance,  not 
to  say  his  contempt  for  it,  takes  with  me  the  place  of  his 
affection  for  your  house.  If  you  tell  him  to  store  the  galliot 
for  both  of  us,  he  will  strip  the  plantation.  '  Aint  nothin' 
fit  to  eat,  all  the  way  up  river,'  he  will  say.  '  All  on  'em  eats 
alligators  and  persimmons.  Don'  know  what  good  codfish 
and  salt  pork  is,  none  on  um.'  " 

Everybody  laughed. 

"  Capital,  capital,  Mr.  Lonsdale !  You  have  studied  the 
language  of  the  country  at  its  fountain." 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  305 

"  We  will  not  let  Ransom  starve  us,  Mr.  Lonsdale ;  but 
certainly  we  will  not  let  him  starve  you." 

The  reader  of  to-day,  who  embarks  at  New  Orleans  for  the 
mouth  of  the  Ohio  in  a  steamboat  which  is  "  a  palace  above 
and  a  warehouse  below,"  has  to  take  thought,  in  order  to 
make  real  to  himself  a  voyage,  when  Lonsdale  and  Roland 
could  not  expect,  even  with  extra  good  luck,  to  reach  their 
destination  in  two  months'  time.  Slow  as  travelling  was 
from  Philadelphia  or  Baltimore  across  the  mountains,  many 
a  traveller  would  have  taken  a  voyage  from  New  Orleans  to 
an  Atlantic  seaport,  that  he  might  descend  the  Ohio,  rather 
than  ascend  the  Mississippi. 

In  this  case,  every  preparation  was  made  for  comfort  and 
for  speed,  on  a  plan  not  very  unlike  that  on  which  Inez 
and  her  aunt  started  on  their  journey  for  Texas. 

By  a  special  dispensation,  in  which  perhaps,  the  vicar- 
general/ and  bishop  assisted,  not  to  say  the  pope  himself, 
Ma-ry  was  liberated  from  the  convent  school  to  be  present  at 
the  last  farewells.  The  evening  was  spent  at  the  plantation 
with  affected  cheerfulness,  as  is  men's  custom  on  the  evenings 
of  departure ;  and  with  early  morning  the  two  travellers  were 
on  their  way.  Mr.  Perry  took  his  own  boat  as  they  went  up 
the  river,  and  went  down  to  the  city  to  his  counting-house, 
taking  Ma-ry  to  a  new  sojourn  with  the  Ursulines,  in  which 
her  docility  must  show  the  pope  that  she  had  not  abused  his 
gracious  permission  for  a  "  retreat." 

Eunice  made  her  preparations  for  a  quiet  week  with  Inez. 
Dear  little  Inez  !  she  was  more  lovely  than  ever,  now  that 
there  was  always  a  shade  of  care  about  her.  How  true  it  is 
that  human  life  never  can  be  tempered  into  the  true  violet 
steel  without  passing  through  the  fire !  And  Inez  had  passed 
through.  It  was  the  one  bitter  experience  of  life  in  which 
nobody  could  help  her.  Eunice  knew  that.  She  would  have 
died  for  this  child  to  save  her  sorrow ;  and  yet  without  sor 
row,  nay,  without  bitter  anguish,  this  lively,  happy  girl  could 
never  be  made  into  a  true  woman.  That  Eunice  knew  also 


306  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  : 

And,  while  Inez  suffered,  all  Eunice  could  do  was  to  sit  by,  01 
stand  by  and  look  on,  —  to  watch  and  to  pray  as  she  did  that 
night  by  the  camp-fire. 

"  Now  we  are  rid  of  them  all,  auntie,  we  can  go  to  work 
and  get  things  into  order.  There  is  no  end  of  things  to  be 
done,  and  you  are  to  show  me  how  to  do  them  all.  What  in 
the  world  will  come  to  the  plantation  when  you  go  off  to  be 
Duchess  of  Clarence,  or  maybe  queen  of  England,  if  I  do  not 
learn  something  this  summer  ?  " 

"  Could  you  not  push  the  Duke  of  Clarence  into  a  butt  of 
malmsey,  and  be  well  rid  of  him  ?  Then  you  would  be  free 
from  your  terrors.  For  me,  I  have  not  yet  seen  him,  and  I 
don't  know  how  I  shall  like  him.  Go,  get  your  apron,  and 
come  with  me." 

And  so  the  two  girls,  as  Mr.  Perry  still  called  them  fondly, 
had  what  women  term  a  "  lovely  time  "  that  day.  No  such 
true  joy  to  the  well-trained  housekeeping  chief,  as  to  get  rid 
of  the  men  occasionally  an  hour  or  two  early.  Eunice  and 
Inez  resolved  that  they  would  have  no  regular  dinner,  just  a 
cup  of  tea  and  a  bit  of  cold  meat ;  and  that  the  day  should  be 
devoted  to  the  inner  mysteries  of  that  mysterious  Eleusinian 
profession,  which  is  the  profession  of  the  priestess  of  Ceres, 
or  the  domestic  hearth. 

And  a  field-day  they  had  of  it.  The  infirmary  was  inspected, 
and  the  nursery,  the  clothing-rooms,  the  kitchen,  and  the 
storehouses.  Inez  filled  her  little  head  full,  and  her  little 
note-book  fuller.  They  were  both  in  high  conclave  over  some 
pieces  of  coarse  home-woven  cotonnades,  —  a  famous  manu 
facture  of  their  Acadian  neighbors, — when  a  scream  was 
heard  from  the  shore,  and  Mr.  Perry  was  seen  approaching. 

The  ladies  welcomed  him  with  eager  wonder.  He  was  tired 
and  evidently  annoyed,  but  relieved  them  in  a  minute  from 
personal  anxiety  about  Ma-ry  or  any  near  friend. 

"  Still  my  news  is  as  bad  as  it  can  be.  I  have  come  back 
to  send  it  up  to  Roland  there  and-  Mr.  Lonsdale.  This 
Morales,  this  idiot  of  an  intendant,  means  to  cut  off  from  the 
people  above  the  right  of  sending  their  goods  to  Orleans." 


OK,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."'1  307 

"  Cut  jff  the  right  of  depot !  "  cried  both  the  girls  in  a  word. 
They  both  knew  that  the  prosperity  of  Orleans  and  the  pros 
perity  of  the  West  alike  depended  on  it ;  nay,  they  knew  that 
peace  or  war  depended  upon  it.  They  heard  with  the  amaze 
ment  with  which  they  would  have  heard  that  the  intendant 
had  fired  the  cathedral. 

"  Yes,  the  fool  has  cut  off  the  permission  for  deposit.  Of 
course  I  supposed  it  was  a  blunder.  I  went  round  to  my 
lord's  office,  and  saw  the  idiot  myself.  He  is  as  mad  as  a 
March  hare.  I  reminded  him  of  the  treaty.  The  right  is 
sure  for  three  years  more  against  all  the  intendants  in  the 
world.  The  crazy  coot  rolled  his  eyes,  and  said  that  in 
the  high  politics  treaties  even  sometimes  must  give  way. 
High  fiddlestick !  I  wish  his  Prince  of  Peace  was  higher 
than  he  has  been  yet,  and  with  nothing  to  stand  upon  ! " 

"  Did  you  speak  of  the  —  the  secret  ?  "  said  Eunice,  mean 
ing  that  Louisiana  was  really  Napoleon's  province,  or  the 
French  Republic's,  at  this  moment,  and  no  province  of  Spain. 

"  I  just  hinted  at  it.  So  absurd,  that  there  should  be  this 
pretence  of  secrecy,  when  the  '  secret '  has  been  whispered  in 
every  paper  in  the  land !  But,  indeed,  the  men  who  are  most 
angry  below  say  that  this  is  Bonaparte's  plan,  that  he  wants 
to  try  the  temper  of  the  Kentuckians.  He  is  no  such  fool. 
It  is  another  piece  of  Salcedo's  madness,  or  of  the  madness 
which  ruled  Salcedo's.  Perhaps  they  want  at  Madrid  to  steal 
all  the  value  from  their  gift.  Clearly  enough  there  is  a  quarrel 
between  old  Salcedo  the  governor,  and  this  ass  of  a  Morales. 
The  Intendant  Morales  will  do  it,  or  says  he  will  do  it  all  the 
same ;  and  the  governor  does  not  interfere.  But  it  is  all  one 
business :  it  is  that  madness  that  sent  Muzquiz  after  our  poor 
friend ;  it  is  that  madness  which  appointed  Salcedo,  the  old 
fool,  here.  Madrid,  indeed !  " 

"  What  will  the  river  people  say  ?  "  asked  Inez. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  they'll  say,"  said  her  exasperated 
father,  who  had  by  this  time  talked  himself  back  into  the 
same  rage  with  which  he  had  left  the  intendant's  apartments  ; 


308  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"  but  I  know  what  they  will  do.  They  will  take  their  rifles 
on  their  shoulders,  and  their  powder-horns.  They  will  put  a 
few  barrels  of  pork  and  hard-tack  on  John  Adams's  boats, 
which  are  waiting  handy  for  them  up  there.  They  will  take 
the  first  rise  on  the  river  after  they  hear  this  news ;  and  they 
will  come  dov,rn  and  smoke  this  whole  tribe  of  drones  out  of 
this  hive,  and  the  intendant  and  the  whole  crew  will  be  in 
Cuba  in  no  time.  Inez,  mark  what  I  say.  This  river  and 
this  town  go  together.  The  power  that  holds  this  town  for 
an  hour  or  a  day  against  the  wish  of  the  people  above  holds 
it  to  its  ruin.  Remember  that,  if  you  live  a  hundred 
years." 

"  The  whole  army  of  Cuba  could  be  brought  here  in  a  very 
few  weeks,"  said  Eunice  thoughtfully. 

"  Never  you  fear  the  army  of  Cuba.  The  general  who  ever 
brings  an  army  from  the  Gulf  against  New  Orleans,  when 
the  sharp-shooters  of  this  valley  want  to  hold  New  Orleans, 
comes  here  to  his  ruin.  Inez,  when  New  Orleans  and  the 
Western  country  shall  learn  to  hold  together,  New  Orleans 
will  be  one  of  the  first  cities  of  the  world ;  and  you,  girl, 
are  young  enough  to  live  to  see  it  so." 

All  this  he  said,  as  Eunice  fairly  insisted  on  his  drinking  a 
cup  of  coffee  and  eating  something  after  his  voyage.  All 
the  time,  however,  the  preparations  were  going  forward,  to 
order  which  he  had  himself  come  up  the  river.  The  lightest 
and  swiftest  boat  in  the  little  navy  of  the  plantation  was 
hastily  got  ready  to  be  sent  with  the  bad  news  to  Roland  and 
Lonsdale.  Nobody  knew  whether  the  intendant  had  for 
warded  it.  Nobody  knew  whether  he  meant  to.  But,  since 
Oliver  Pollock  and  Silas  Perry  forwarded  gunpowder  to 
Washington  six  and  twenty  years  before,  they  knew  the  way 
to  send  news  up  the  river  when  they  chose,  and  he  did  not 
choose  that  any  intendant  of  them  all  should  be  ahead  of 
him. 

The  boat  was  ready  before  half  an  hour  was  over.  The 
occasion  was  so  pressing  that  Ransom  himself  was  put  in 


OK,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  309 

charge  of  the  expedition  and  the  despatches.  The  other 
party  had  a  day  the  start  of  them.  But  Ransom  took  a 
double  crew  that  he  might  row  all  night,  and  hoped  to  over 
haul  them  at  their  camp  of  the  second  evening. 


310  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  : 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE   DESOLATE   HOME. 

"Still,  as  they  travel,  far  and  wide, 
Catch  they  and  keep  they  a  trace  here,  a  trace  there, 
That  puts  you  in  mind  of  a  place  here,  a  place  there." 

BROWNING. 

RANSOM  returned  a  good  deal  earlier  than  anybody  ex 
pected.  He  came  in  the  middle  of  the  night  with  as  cross  a 
crew  of  boatmen  as  ever  rowed  any  Jason  or  Odysseus.  He 
had  compelled  them  to  such  labors  as  they  did  not  in  the 
least  believe  in. 

He  reported  to  Eunice  before  breakfast. 

"  So  you  caught  them,  Ransom  ?  " 

"  Yes'm.  Come  up  with  um  little  this  side  Pointe  Coupe'e. 
They  was  in  camp.  Good  camp  too.  All  right  and  comfort 
able.  Mr.  Roland  understands  things,  mum." 

"  And  you  didn't  see  the  Spaniards  ? " 

"Yes'm  —  see  um.  Didn't  see  me  though — darned  fools. 
See  them  fust  night  out.  They  was  all  asleep  in  the  Green 
Reach.  See  they  fires,  lazy  dogs!  didn't  go  nigh  um,  'n 
they  didn't  know  nothin'  about  us ;  passed  right  by  um, 
t'other  side  of  the  river.  That's  all  they's  fit  for.  Calls  um 
coast-guards.  Much  as  ever  they  can  do  is  to  keep  they  own 
hats  on." 

"  And  what  message  did  the  gentlemen  send  ? " 

"  Said  they  was  all  well,  and  had  had  very  good  luck ;  'n 
they  wrote  two  letters  —  three  letters  here,  for  you  and  Miss 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  311 

Inez,  'n  Mr.  Perry.  I'd  better  take  his'n  down  to  him 
myself.  I'm  goin'  down  to-day." 

''  And  did  you  come  back  in  one  day,  Ransom  ? " 

"  Yes'm.  Come  down  on  the  current.  Come  in  no  time, 
ef  these  lazy  niggers  knew  how  to  row.  Don't  know  nothin'. 
Ought  to  'a'  been  here  at  three  o'clock.  Didn't  git  here  till 
midnight.  Told  um  I'd  get  out  'n  walk,  but  ye  can't  shame 
um  nor  nothin'.  They  can't  row.  They  don't  know  nothin'  " 

This  was  Ransom's  modest  account  of  a  feat  unsurpassed 
on  the  river  for  ten  years  —  indeed,  till  the  achievements  of 
steam  left  such  feats  for  the  future  unrecorded. 

"  And  you  saw  no  one  coming  down  ?  " 

"Yes'm.  See  them  Spanish  beggars  agin,  and  this  time 
they  stopped  me.  Couldn't  'a'  stopped  me  ef  I  didn't  choose  j 
but  there's  no  use  quarrelling.  They  was  gittin'  ready  for 
they  siesta,  's  they  calls  it,  lazy  dogs !  right  this  side  o'  Mr. 
Le  Bourgeois's  place,  —  pootiest  place  on  the  river.  We  was 
on  t'other  side,  and  they  seed  us,  and  fired  a  shot  in  the  air ; 
and  I  told  the  niggers  to  stop  rowin'.  Made  the  Spanishers 
—  them's  the  coast-guard,  they  calls  um  —  come  out  and 
meet  us.  They  asked  where  we'd  been.  I  told  um  we'd 
been  cat-fishing.  They  asked  where  the  fish  was.  I  said  we 
hadn't  had  no  luck.  They  asked  if  any  boats  had  passed 
me,  and  I  said  they  hadn't,  'cause  they  hadn't.  They  asked 
me  to  take  a  note  down  to  the  intendant,  'n  I  said  I  would ; 
'n  I  got  it  here.  Guess  I  shall  give  it  to  him  about  Thanks- 
givin'  time." 

This,  with  a  grim  smile  of  contempt  for  the  snares  and 
wiles  of  the  Spanishers. 

"  O  Ransom  1  you  had  better  take  it  to  the  intendant's 
to-day." 

"  I'll  see,  mum.  Sartin  it's  for  no  good,  'cause  they's  no 
good  in  um.  They's  all  thieves  'n  liars.  Mebbe  it's  for 
harm,  'n  ef  it  is,  they'd  better  not  have  it." 

"  Well,  show  it  to  Mr.  Perry,  Ransom,  any  way." 

To  which  the  old  man  made  no  reply,  but  withdrew ;  and 


312  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

then  the  ladies  undertook  the  business  of  letter-reading-  and 
breakfasting  together.  The  letters  would  not  tell  many 
facts.  They  might  show  to  the  skilful  reader  something  of 
what  was  in  the  heart  of  each  writer,  as  he  left  for  such  long 
and  solitary  journey.  But  this  story  hurries  to  its  end,  and 
these  intimations  of  feeling  must  be  left  to  the  reader's  con 
jectures. 

Whatever  they  said,  the  ladies  had  to  sitisfy  themselves 
with  these  letters  for  months.  The  news  which  Lonsdale 
and  Roland  carried  was  enough  to  turn  back  most  of  the 
downward-bound  boats  which  would  else  have  taken  their 
letters.  Such  boats  as  did  attempt  the  gauntlet  were  seized 
or  threatened  at  the  different  Spanish  posts ;  were  searched, 
perhaps,  by  guarda  tasfas,  so  called ;  and  nothing  so  sus 
picious  as  letters,  even  were  these  the  most  tender-looking  of 
billets  to  the  sweetest  of  ladies,  was  permitted  to  slip 
through. 

It  is  true  that  some  cause,  either  the  bitter  protests  of  the 
American  factors,  or  some  doubts  engendered  by  despatches 
from  home,  postponed  until  October  the  final  proclamation 
of  the  famous  interdict  by  which  New  Orleans  was  self 
starved  and  self-besieged.  Its  effect  on  the  upper  country 
was  none  the  less  for  the  delay. 

The  ladies  settled  back  into  that  simple  and  not  unprofit 
able  life  so  well  known  to  our  grandmothers,  so  impossible 
to  describe  to  their  descendants,  or  even  for  these  descend 
ants  to  conceive, —  a  life  unpersecuted  by  telegrams,  by 
letters,  by  express-parcels  ;  a  life  which  knew  nothing  of 
that  "  stand  and  deliver,"  which  bids  us  reply  by  return  of 
post ;  or,  while  the  telegraph-messenger  waits  in  the  hall,  to 
give  a  decision  on  which  may  rest  the  happiness  of  a  life. 
For  Eunice  and  Inez,  the  great  events  were,  perhaps,  to  see 
that  a  crew  of  Cadcloes  drifting  down  the  river  with  their 
baskets  were  properly  welcomed  ;  perhaps  to  spend  the  day 
with  Mine.  Porcher,  at  her  plantation  just  below ;  perhaps  to 
prepare  for  the  return  visit  when  the  time  came ;  perhaps 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  313 

to  go  out  of  a  Saturday  evening  to  see  the  Acadians  dance 
themselves  almost  dead  to  the  violin-music  of  Michael,  the 
old  white-haired  fiddler ;  perhaps  for  Inez  to  keep  her  little 
school  daily,  in  which  she  taught  the  little  black  folk  the 
mysteries  of  letters ;  and  all  the  time,  certainly,  for  both  of 
them,  the  purely  domestic  cares  of  that  independent  princi 
pality  which  was  called  a  plantation. 

Mr.  Perry  came  up  to  the  plantation  about  once  a  week, 
but  only  for  a  day  or  two  at  a  time.  His  stay  would  be 
shorter  than  Eunice  had  ever  known  it,  and  there  was  anxiety 
in  his  manner  which  it  had  never  known  before.  Every 
thing  combined  to  make  that  an  anxious  year  for  Orleans. 
Though  this  ridiculous  intendant  had  pretended  not  to  know 
the  secret  of  its  transfer  to  France,  many  men  did  know  that 
secret  early  in  the  spring,  and  before  summer  all  men  knew 
it.  That  Gen.  Victor  with  an  army  of  twenty-five  thousand 
Frenchmen  was  on  his  way  to  take  possession,  was  a  rumor 
which  came  with  almost  every  vessel  from  Philadelphia  or 
from  England.  Gen.  Victor  and  his  army  did  not  appear. 
What  did  appear  was  another  army,  a  starving  army  of  poor 
French  men  and  women  from  San  Domingo,  driven  out  by  a 
new  wave  of  the  insurrection  there.  It  was  not  the  first  of 
such  arrivals.  They  always  made  care  and  anxiety  for  the 
little  colony.  Not  only  were  the  poor  people  to  be  provided 
for,  but  the  cause  of  their  coming  had  to  be  talked  over  in 
every  family  in  Louisiana.  A  successful  rising  of  slaves  in 
San  Domingo  had  to  be  discussed  in  the  hearing  and  pres 
ence  of  slaves  no«  well  enough  satisfied  in  Louisiana.  This 
year,  this  anxiety  had  reached  its  height.  The  Spanish 
intendant,  who  had  precipitated  war  on  his  own  head  from 
up  the  river,  so  soon  as  the  Western  sharp-shooters  could 
arrive,  frightened  himself  and  his  people  to  death  with 
terrors  about  insurrection  within.  The  French  began  to 
whisper  that  their  own  countrymen  were  coming.  The  hand 
ful  of  Americans  chafed  under  the  unrighteous  restriction  on 
the  trade  for  which  they  lived  there. 


314  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"By  THE  KING. 
A  proclamation ! 
In  the  name  of  the  King ! 
Know  all  men : 

That  His  Most  Christian  Majesty  commands  that  the  sale  of  all  c!  ocka 
bearing  upon  them  the  figure  or  a  woman,  whether  sitting  or  standing, 
wearing  the  cap  of  Liberty,  or  bearing  a  banner  in  her  hand,  is  hence 
forth,  forever,  absolutely  prohibited  in  the  colony  of  Louisiana. 

Let  all  faithful  subjects  of  his  Majesty  govern  themselves  accordingly. 
Long  live  the  King." 

To  see  such  a  proclamation  printed  in  the  miserable 
"  Gazette,"  or  posted  at  the  corner  of  the  street,  was  some 
thing  to  laugh  at ;  and  at  the  old  jealousies  of  other  days, 
between  the  French  circle  and  the  Spanish  circle,  Mr.  Perry 
could  afford  to  laugh  again.  But  here,  in  matters  much 
more  important,  was  jealousy  amounting  to  hatred,  for 
causes  many  of  which  were  real ;  and  every  man's  hand, 
indeed,  seemed  to  be  against  his  brother. 

It  was  therefore,  at  best,  but  a  sad  summer  and  autumn ; 
and  Miss  Perry  succeeded  in  persuading  her  brother  to 
remove  the  little  family  to  the  city  earlier  than  was  their 
custom,  that  he  might  at  least  have  in  town  what  she  called 
home  comforts,  and  that,  if  any  thing  did  happen,  they 
might  at  least  be  all  together. 

"  We  cannot  be  of  much  use,"  she  said ;  "  but  at  least  we 
shall  be  of  no  harm.  Besides,  if  we  go,  we  shall  take  Ran 
som  :  I  know  he  will  be  a  convenience  to  you,  and  you  may 
need  him  of  a  sudden." 

Whether  Ransom  would  be  of  any  real  service,  Mr.  Perry 
doubted.  But  it  was  very  true  that  he  was  glad  to  have  his 
cheerful  little  family  together ;  and  in  the  comfort  of  a  quiet 
evening  to  forget  the  intrigues,  the  plots,  the  alarms,  and  the 
absurd  speculations,  which  were  discussed  every  day  in  his 
counting-room,  now  that  there  was  little  other  business  done 
there.  In  the  old  palmy  days  of  Gov.  Miro,  even  under  the 
later  dynasties  of  Casa  Calvo  and  Gayoso,  if  any  such  com 
plications  threatened  as  now  impended,  Mr.  Perry  would  have 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  315 

been  among  the  favored  counsellors  of  the  viceroy ;  for  vice 
roys  these  governors  were.  He  would  not  have  hesitated 
himself  to  call,  and  to  offer  advice  which  he  knew  would  be 
well  received..  But  times  were  changed,  indeed.  Instead  of 
one  king,  there  were  three.  Here  was  Morales,  the  intend- 
ant,  pretending  that  he  did  not  care  whether  Gov.  Salcedo 
approved  or  did  not  approve  of  his  doings.  Here  was  Sal 
cedo  himself :  was  he  old  enough  to  be  foolish  and  in  his 
dotage,  as  some  people  thought  ?  or,  was  he  pretending  to  be 
a  fool,  and  really  pulling  all  the  strings  behind  the  curtain  * 
And  here  was  young  Salcedo,  his  son,  puffing  about,  and 
pretending  to  manage  everybody  and  every  thing. 

One  night,  at  a  public  ball,  this  young  Salcedo  set  every 
body  by  the  ears.  The  men  drew  swords,  and  the  women 
fainted.  Just  as  the  dance  was  to  begin,  and  the  band  began 
playing  a  French  contra-dance,  the  young  braggart  cried  out, 
"  English  dances,  English  dances  !  "  He  was  a  governor's 
son  :  should  he  not  rule  the  ballroom  ?  Any  way,  the  band 
master  feared  and  obeyed,  and  began  on  English  contra- 
dances.  The  young  French  gallants  would  not  stand  this, 
and  cried  out,  "  French,  French,  French ! "  There  were  not 
Spaniards  enough  to  out-cry  them ;  but  Salcedo,  and  those 
there  were,  drew  their  swords.  The  Frenchmen  drew  theirs. 
The  women  screamed.  The  American  and  English  gentle 
men  let  the  others  do  the  fighting,  while  they  carried  the 
fainting  women  out.  The  captain  of  the  guard  marched  in 
with  a  file  of  soldiers,  presented  bayonets,  and  proceeded  to 
clear  the  hall.  It  was  only  this  absurd  extreme  which 
brought  people  to  terms.  The  women  were  revived,  and  the 
dancing  went  on.  What  with  young  Salcedo's  folly,  old  Sal- 
cedo's  jealousy,  and  Morales's  wrong-headedness,  some  such 
bad-blooded  quarrel  filled  people's  ears  every  day. 

Under  such  circumstances,  the  simple  life  of  the  city  had 
all  gone.  Mr.  Perry's  counsels,  once  always  respected  at 
headquarters,  were  worthless  now. 

This  intenclant  knew  his  estimate  among  the  Americans, 


316  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

and  with  their  natipn,  only  too  well ;  but  he  pretended  to 
make  that  a  reason  for  distrusting  him.  The  absurd  dread 
of  the  Americans,  which  first  showed  itself  in  the  treachery 
to  poor  Philip  Nolan,  showed  itself  now  in  unwillingness  to 
hear  what  even  the  most  cautious  Americans  had  to  say. 

In  the  midst  of  such  anxieties,  as  they  expected  Roland 
from  hour  to  hour,  there  came  in  his  place,  by  the  way  of 
Natchez,  only  this  not  very  satisfactory  letter :  — 

ROLAND  PERRY  TO  EUNICE  PERRY. 

FORT  MASSAC,  Aug.  31,  1802. 

MY  DEAR  AUNT,  —  We  have  been  up  the  Cumberland  River  ;  and  I 
am  convinced  that  I  have  seen  the  ruins  of  dear  Ma-ry's  home.  There 
is  not  stick  nor  stem  standing  of  the  village,  —  save  some  wretched 
charred  beams  of  the  saw-mill,  all  covered  with  burrs,  and  briars,  and 
bushes.  But,  that  this  is  the  place,  you  may  be  sure.  We  have  been  up 
to  the  next  settlement,  which  was  planted  only  three  years  later ;  and 
they  know  the  whole  sad  story,  just  as  Gen.  Bowles  has  told  you.  The 
bloody  brutes  came  in  on  the  sleeping  village,  just  in  the  dead  of  night 
The  people  had  hardly  a  chance  to  fire  a  shot,  none  to  rally  in  their 
defence.  They  slaughtered  all  the  men,  and,  as  these  people  said,  they 
slaughtered  all  the  women  ;  but  it  seems  dear  Ma-ry  and  her  mother  were 
saved. 

Which  baby  she  is,  from  which  mother  of  these  eight  or  ten  families, 
of  course  I  cannot  tell,  nor  can  these  people.  But  they  say  that,  at 
Natchez,  there  is  an  old  lady  who  can.  An  old  Mrs.  Willson,  —  all  these 
people  were  Scotch-Irish  from  Carolina,  —  an  old  Mrs.  Willson  came  on 
to  join  her  daughter,  and  arrived  the  spring  after  the  massacre.  Poor 
old  soul,  she  had  no  money  to  go  back.  She  has  loitered  and  loitered 
here,  till  only  two  years  ago.  Then  she  said  there  would  be  more  chance 
of  her  hearing  news  of  her  child  if  she  went  farther  south  and  west ;  and 
so  when  somebody  moved  to  Natchez  he  took  with  him  this  Mother  Ann  ; 
and,  if  she  is  alive,  she  is  there  still. 

She  is  possibly  our  Ma-ry's  grandmother.  If  anybody  knows  any 
thing  ot  the  dear  child's  birth,  it  is  she. 

And  this  is  all  I  can  tell.  I  am  sorry  it  is  so  little  ;  so  is  poor  Lons- 
dale,  —  the  heartiest,  most  loyal  companion,  as  he  is  the  most  accom 
plished  gentleman,  it  was  ever  a  young  fellow's  luck  to  travel  with.  You 
will  think  this  is  very  little  ;  but  it  has  cost  us  weeks  of  false  starts  and 
ost  clews  to  get  at  what  I  send  you. 

You  will  not  wonder  that  you  do  not  see  me.     You  will  believe  me 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  317 

that  I  am  well  employed.     Make  much  love  for  me  to  dear  Ma-ry  and  to 
my  darling  Een. 

Always  your  own  boy, 

ROLAND  PEI  RY. 

This  letter  had  been  a  strangely  long  time  coming.  Had 
it  perhaps  been  held  by  the  Spanish  authorities  somewhere  ? 
Eunice  had  another  letter,  a  letter  in  Lonsdale's  handwriting ; 
but  she  read  Roland's  first,  and  then,  grieved  and  surprised 
that  her  boy  was  not  coming,  she  gave  it  to  his  father. 

Mr.  Perry  read  with  equal  surprise  and  with  equal  grief. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  "  said  she. 

"  It  means,"  said  he,  after  a  pause,  —  "  it  means  that  he 
thought  the  chances  were  that  the  coast-guard  would  get  that 
letter,  and  so  it  must  tell  very  little."  Then,  after  another 
pause,  "  Eunice,  I  am  afraid  it  means  that  the  boy  has  mixed 
himself  up  with  recruiting  the  Kentuckians  to  come  down 
here  on  the  next  rise  of  the  river.  Why  they  did  not  come 
on  the  last  rise,  is  a  wonder  to  me ;  but  I  suppose  they  were 
waiting  for  these  fools  to  strike  the  last  blow.  They  have 
struck  it  now.  As  I  told  you,  Morales  has  published  his 
'  interdict.'  The  old  fool  S::lcedo  pretends  to  shake  his 
head ;  but  it  is  published  all  the  same,  and,  now  they  have 
done  it,  they  shake  at  every  wind.  They  believe,  at  the  Gov 
ernment  House,  that  twenty  thousand  armed  men,  mounted 
on  horses  or  alligators  or  both,  are  now  on  their  way.  The 
intendant  shakes  in  his  shoes,  as  he  walks  from  mass  to  his 
office.  Roland  has  been  bred  a  soldier.  He  is  an  eager 
American.  He  certainly  has  not  staid  for  nothing,  when  his 
heart  and  every  thing  else  calls  him  here.  What  does  your 
Mr.  Lonsclale  say  ?  " 

Mr.  Lonsdale  said  very  little  that  could  be  read  aloud,  as 
it  proved.  In  briefer  language  than  Roland's  he  told  sub 
stantially  the  same  story.  Mother  Ann,  at  Natchez,  —  if 
Mother  Ann  still  lived,  —  was  the  person  to  be  consulted 
regarding  Ma-ry's  lineage. 

There  seemed  to  be  more  in  Mr.   Lonsdale's  letter  than 


318  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

was  read  aloud  to  Mr.  Perry,  or  even  to  Inez.  But  poor 
Inez  was  growing  used  to  secrets  and  to  mysteries.  Poor 
girl !  she  knew  that  of  one  thing  she  never  spoke  to  Aunt 
Eunice.  Who  was  she,  to  make  Aunt  Eunice  tell  every  thing 
to  her  ?  It  seemed  to  her  that  the  world  was  growing  myste 
rious.  Her  lover  left  her,  if  he  were  her  lover,  and  never 
said  a  word  to  tell  her  he  loved  her ;  and  no  man  knew 
where  his  body  lay.  Her  dear  Ma-ry,  her  other  self,  was 
caged  up  on  the  other  side  of  those  hateful  bars.  Her  own 
darling  brother,  lost  so  long,  and  only  just  back  again,  —  he 
had  disappeared  too.  Nothing  but  these  letters,  months  old, 
to  tell  what  had  become  of  him.  And  now,  when  Aunt 
Eunice  had  a  letter  from  where  he  was,  that  letter  was  not 
read  to  Inez,  as  once  every  letter  was  :  it  was  simply  put 
away  after  one  miserable  scrap  had  been  read  aloud,  and 
people  began  discussing  the  situation  as  if  this  letter  had 
never  come. 

But  the  letters  were  to  work  Inez  more  woe  than  this ; 
for  Eunice  determined  to  follow  up,  as  soon  as  might  be,  the 
clew  they  gave. 

So  was  it,  that  some  weeks  after,  when  a  change  was  to  be 
made  in  the  Spanish  garrison  at  Concordia,  opposite  Natchez, 
she  availed  herself  of  the  escort  of  a  friendly  officer  going 
up  the  river,  who  was  taking  his  wife  with  him,  and  deter 
mined  for  herself  to  make  an  inquiry  at  that  village  for 
"  Mother  Ann."  She  had  never  ceased  to  feel  that  on  her, 
first  of  all,  rested  the  responsibility  in  determining  Ma-ry's 
future,  and  in  unravelling  the  history  of  her  past 


OR,  "SffOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS"  310 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

ALONE. 

"  Much  was  in  little  writ,  and  all  conveyec 
With  cautious  care,  for  fear  to  be  betrayed 
By  some  false  confidant,  or  favorite  maid." 

DRYDEN. 

"  AH,  well !  "  wrote  Inez,  in  the  queer  little  journal  which 
she  tried  to  keep  in  those  days,  "  so  I  am  to  learn  what  life 
is.  They  take  their  turns ;  but  one  after  another  of  these  I 
love  most  leaves  me,  till  I  am  now  almost  alone.  I  will  try 
not  to  be  ungrateful,  but  I  am  very  lonely." 

And  here  the  poor  girl  stopped ;  and  such  was  the  event- 
fulness  of  her  life  for  weeks  after,  that  she  does  not  come  to 
the  diary  again.  As  it  is  apt  to  happen  in  our  somewhat 
limited  human  life,  the  people  who  have  most  to  do  have 
little  chance,  or  little  spirit,  to  sit  down  night  by  night,  to 
tell  on  paper  how  they  did  it. 

Her  aunt's  absence  must  of  necessity  be  three  or  four 
weeks  in  length.  They  parted  with  tears,  you  may  be  suie. 
It  was  the  first  time  they  had  been  parted,  for  so  long  a 
separation,  since  Inez  could  remember.  She  was  now  indeed 
put  to  the  test  to  show  how  well  she  could  carry  on  the 
duties  of  the  head  of  the  household. 

And  Chloe  and  Antoine,  and  even  old  Ransom,  would 
come  to  her  for  orders,  in  the  most  respectful  way,  from  day 
to  day.  "  As  if  I  did  not  know,"  Inez  said  to  Ma-ry,  in  one 
of  their  convent  interviews,  "  that  they  were  all  going  to  dc 


320  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

just  what  they  thought  best,  and  as  if  they  did  not  know  that 
I  knew  it" 

Once  a  fortnight,  under  the  rules  for  girls'  schools,  which 
St.  Ursula  had  arranged  before  the  barbarians  had  cut  off 
her  head  at  Cologne,  Inez  was  permitted  to  visit  Ma-ry  for 
an  hour  in  the  convent  parlor.  Once  a  month,  under  some 
such  dispensation  from  the  holy  father  at  Rome  as  has  been 
spoken  of,  Ma-ry  was  able  to  return  the  visit  for  the  better 
part  of  a  day.  For  the  rest,  their  intercourse  went  on  in 
correspondence,  with  the  restriction,  not  pleasing  to  two  such 
young  ladies,  that  the  letters  on  both  sides  were  to  be  exam 
ined  before  they  reached  their  destination  by  Sister  Barbara. 
Inez  took  such  comfort  as  she  could,  by  going  to  mass  on 
Sunday  at  the  chapel  of  St.  Ursula,  where  she  could  see 
Ma-ry,  and  Ma-ry  could  see  her.  But,  excepting  these  com 
forts,  the  two  girls  had  to  live  on  in  hope  that  Whit-Sunday 
would  come  at  last,  and  then  Ma-ry  was  to  be  liberated  from 
the  study  and  the  imprisonment  to  which  she  had  so  bravely 
submitted. 

Poor  Inez's  anxieties  were  not  to  be  the  questions  of  goo^ 
or  bad  coffee,  or  tender  steaks  or  tough.  Every  thing  seemed 
to  conspire  against  the  peace  of  that  little  community ;  and 
in  that  little  community  the  bolts  seemed  to  fall  hottest  and 
fastest  on  the  household  of  Silas  Perry. 

The  community  itself  was  in  the  most  feverish  condi 
tion.  M.  Laussat  had  arrived,  with  a  commission  from  the 
First  Consul  to  govern  the  colony,  as  soon  as  it  was  trans 
ferred  by  Spain;  for  all  mystery  about  the  transfer  from 
Spain  to  France  was  now  over.  Besides  old  Salcedo,  "  mori 
bund,"  and  young  Salcedo,  impudent  and  interfering,  and  the 
Intendant  Morales,  idiotic  and  pig-headed,  here  was  this  pre 
tentious  popinjay,  Laussat. 

You  would  have  said  that  the  French  people  would  have 
been  pleased :  now  they  could  dance  French  contra-dances 
when  they  chose. 

Not  so  much  pleased.     The  Spanish  rule  had  been  very 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  321 

mild.  Hardly  a  tax,  hardly  any  interference,  before  this  fool 
came  in.  Oh  for  the  old  days  of  Miro,  and  then  we  would 
not  ask  for  any  French  ruler ! 

And  M.  Laussat,  or  Citizen  Laussat,  without  a  soldier  to 
walk  behind  him  or  before  him,  with  nothing  but  a  uniform 
and  a  few  clerks,  is  swelling  and  puffing,  and  talking  of  what 
our  army  is  going  to  do. 

But  where  is  "our  army"? 

It  does  not  come. 

Gov.  Salcedo  invites  him  to  dinner,  and  is  civil.  Young 
Salcedo  makes  faces  behind  his  back,  and  is  rude.  Mean 
while  the  bishop  is  cross  with  the  Free-Masons,  and  says  the 
Jacobins  are  coming ;  and  all  the  timid  people  are  watching 
the  negroes,  and  say  Christophe  or  Dessalines  is  coming. 
Men  who  never  sat  up  all  night,  except  at  a  revel,  are  watch 
ing  their  own  kitchens  for  fear  of  secret  meetings. 

"Ah  me!"  poor  Inez  says,  "were  there  ever  such  hateful 
times?  When  will  Roland  come?  When  will  Aunt  Eunice 
come  ?  When  can  I  go  back  to  the  plantation  ? " 

One  afternoon  Mr.  Perry  came  home  later  than  usual,  and 
looked  even  more  troubled  than  usual.  He  changed  his 
coat,  and  made  ready  for  dinner,  apologized  to  Inez  for 
making  her  dinner  late,  and  then  bade  the  servant  call  Ran 
som. 

"  I  do  not  think  he  is  in,  papa.  He  has  not  come  home 
since  I  sent  him  down  to  you." 

"Why,  that,"  said  her  father,  "was  but  little  after  noon. 
He  came,  and  I  gave  him  his  papers  for  the  '  Hannah.' 
The  '  Hannah '  cast  loose,  and  was  gone  in  twenty  minutes. 
Tarbottle  stood  on  the  quarter,  and  waved  his  hat  to  me,  as 
they  drifted  by  the  office.  Where  can  the  old  fellow  have 
gone  ? " 

These  were  the  first  words,  remembered  for  days  after 
ward,  about  a  mysterious  disappearance  of  the  good  old 
man.  One  more  of  Inez's  stand-bys  out  of  the  way. 

For  that  afternoon  Mr.  Perry  gave  himself  no  care.     So 


322  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

often  was  Ransom  out  of  the  way  that  there  was  an  open 
jest  in  the  family,  which  pretended  that  he  was  major-domo 
in  another  household,  and  spent  half  of  his  time  in  it.  Mr. 
Perry  needed  him  this  evening ;  but  he  often  needed  him 
when  he  had  to  do  without  him.  He  merely  directed  that 
word  should  be  brought  to  him  of  Ransom's  return,  and 
made  no  inquiry. 

But  when  it  appeared,  the  next  morning,  that  Ransom  had 
not  slept  at  home,  matters  looked  more  serious.  A  theory 
was  started  that  he  had  gone  down  the  river  with  the  "  Han 
nah,"  to  return  with  the  river-pilot ;  but  an  express  to  the 
vessel,  which  was  making  but  slow  progress,  settled  that  idea. 
A  message  up  to  the  plantation  showed  that  he  was  not 
there.  A  note  from  Capt.  Tarbottle  made  sure  that  the  old 
fellow  had  landed  safely  from  the  brig ;  but  from  that  mo 
ment  not  a  word  could  be  heard  of  poor  Ransom. 

Mr.  Perry's  anxiety  was  much  greater  than  he  could 
describe  to  Inez.  The  girl  was  so  much  attached  to  her 
old  protector  that  his  death  would  be  to  her  a  terrible 
calamity.  To  Inez,  therefore,  Mr.  Perry  affected  much  more 
confidence  than  he  felt.  The  truth  was,  that  if  the  old  man 
had  not  carried  much  such  a  charmed  life  as  crazy  men 
carry  in  Islam,  he  would  have  been  put  out  of  the  way  long 
before.  In  this  mixed  chaotic  population  of  French,  Span 
ish,  Portuguese,  Italians,  Sicilians,  English,  Irish,  negroes, 
and  Indians,  Ransom  was  going  and  coming,  announcing 
from  moment  to  moment,  to  men's  faces,  that  they  were  all 
thieves  and  liars  and  worse.  How  he  had  escaped  without 
a  thousand  hand-to-hand  battles,  was  and  had  been  a  mys 
tery  to  Silas  Perry.  Now  that  Ransom  was  gone,  his  cwn 
conviction  was  simply  that  the  hour  had  come,  which  had 
been  postponed  as  by  a  miracle.  After  three  days  of  inquiry, 
he  was  certain  that  he  should  never  see  Ransom  again.  The 
blow  of  a  dirk,  and  a  plash  into  the  river,  would  make  little 
echo  ;  and  the  Mississippi  tells  no  tales. 

No  one  said  this  to  poor  Inez ;  but  poor  Inez  was  not 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  323 

such  a  fool  but  she  suspected  it.  She  did  not  like  to  tell 
her  father  how  much  she  suspected,  and  how  much  she  feared. 
She  did  write  to  her  aunt;  and  she  poured  out  her  fears, 
without  hesitation,  to  Ma-ry.  If  Sister  Barbara  or  Sister 
Horrida  wanted  to  read  this,  they  were  welcome. 

Weary  with  such  anxieties,  the  poor  girl  sat  waiting  for  her 
father  one  evening,  even  later  than  on  the  day  when  Ransom 
disappeared.  At  last  she  called  Antoine  to  know  if  his 
master  had  spoken  of  a  late  dinner.  "  No,  monsieur  had 
said  nothing."  Then  Antoine  might  make  ready  to  walk  with 
her  to  the  counting-room ;  and  Antoine  might  take  a  bottle 
of  claret  with  him  :  perhaps  her  father  was  not  well. 

The  sun  had  fairly  set.  The  twilight  is  very  short ;  and 
even  at  that  hour  the  street,  never  much  frequented,  was 
still.  The  girl  almost  flew  over  the  ground  in  her  eagerness. 
But  the  counting-room  was  wholly  locked  up ;  no  one  was 
there.  Indeed,  no  one  was  in  the  neighborhood. 

Papa  must  have  stopped  at  Mr.  Huling's.  They  would 
walk  round  that  way ;  and  they  did  so.  With  as  clear  a  voice 
as  she  could  command,  and  with  well-acted  indifference,  she 
called  across  the  yard  to  Mr.  Ruling,  who  was  smoking  in 
his  gallery,  and  who  ran  to  her  as  soon  as  he  recognized  her 
voice. 

No.  As  it  happened,  he  had  not  seen  Mr.  Perry  all  day. 
He  expected  him,  but  Mr.  Perry  had  not  come  round.  He 
had  thought  he  might  have  gone  up  the  river.  Had  Miss 
Perry  any  news  of  old  Ransom  ? 

Mr.  Huling  was  the  American  vice-consul,  and  Inez  was 
r  "\\i  tempted  to  open  her  whole  budget  of  terrors  to  him. 
But  she  knew  this  would  displease  her  father.  Indeed,  he 
was  probably  at  home  by  this  time,  waiting  for  her.  She  said 
as  much  to  her  friend,  left  a  message  for  the  ladies,  and  with 
drew.  So  soon  as  she  had  passed  the  garden  she  fairly 
ran  home. 

No  father  there  ! 

A  message  to  the  book-keeper  brought  him  round  to  won- 


324  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

der,  but  to  suggest  nothing.  Mr.  Perry  had  left  the  counting- 
room  rather  earlier  than  usual,  had  walked  down  the  river 
bank  :  that  was  all  any  one  had  observed.  The  old  man  was 
not  a  person  of  resource,  and  could  only  express  sympathy. 

And  so  poor  Inez  was  left  indeed  alone.  What  a  night 
that  was  to  her  !  How  it  recalled  the  horrible  night  on  the 
Little  Brasses  !  Only  then  it  was  she  who  had  drifted  away 
from  the  rest  of  them  :  now  she  was  the  fixture,  and  every 
body  —  everybody  she  loved  —  had  drifted  away  from  her. 
One  by  one,  they  had  all  gone.  Nobody  to  talk  to,  nobody 
to  consult,  nobody  even  to  cry  with.  Ma-ry  gone,  Roland 
gone,  her  aunt  gone,  poor  old  Ransom  gone,  and  now  papa 
gone  !  Vainly  she  tried  to  persuade  herself  that  she  was  a 
fool ;  that  papa  was  at  Daniel  Clark's  card-party,  or  had 
stopped  for  a  cup  of  tea  with  the  Joneses.  But  really  she 
knew  that  papa  did  not  do  such  things  without  dressing,  and 
without  sending  word  home.  Papa  would  never  frighten  her 
so.  She  tried  to  imagine  sudden  exigencies  on  shipboard 
which  might  have  called  him  down  the  river  for  the  night. 
This  was  a  little  more  hopeful.  But  she  did  not  in  her  heart 
believe  this,  and  she  knew  she  did  not.  The  girl  was  too 
much  her  father's  confidante,  he  talked  with  her  quite  too 
freely  and  wisely  about  his  affairs,  for  her  to  pretend  to  take 
this  comfort  solidly. 

She  went  through  the  form  of  ordering  in  the  dinner,  and 
ordering  it  out  again.  She  wrapped  her  shawl  around  her, 
and  sat  on  the  gallery,  to  catch  the  first  footstep.  Footstep ! 
No  footsteps  in  that  street  after  nine  at  night !  She  watched 
the  stars,  and  saw  them  pass  down  behind  the  magnolias. 
When  Fomalhaut  was  fairly  out  of  sight,  she  would  give  it  up 
and  go  to  bed.  As  if  she  could  sleep  to-night ! 

And  yet,  poor  tired  child,  she  did  sleep ;  she  slept  then 
and  there.  And  she  dreamed.  What  did  she  dream  of  ? 
Ah  me  !  What  did  poor  Inez  dream  of  most  often  ?  She 
was  sitting  in  the  gallery.  Her  shawl  was  round  her  head, 
as  she  dreamed  ;  and  there  was  a  quick  footstep  in  the  street 


OR,   "SHOW   YOUR  PASSPORTS."  325 

Then  some  one  stopped,  and  knocked  hard  at  the  street-gate. 
And  then,  as  she  sat,  she  could  see  a  head  above  the  gate,  — 
a  head  without  a  hat  on.  And  the  head  spoke  in  the  dark 
ness  ;  it  cried  loud  :  "  Ransom,  Ransom  !  Caesar,  Caesar ! 
Miss  Eunice,  Miss  Eunice  !  Miss  Inez,  Miss  Inez  !  " 

It  was  the  head  of  William  Harrod,  and  it  was  William 
Harrod's  voice  which  called. 

Inez  was  well  waked  now.  With  one  hand  she  seized  the 
hall-bell,  and  rang  it  loud  to  call  Antoine.  She  dashed  down 
the  steps,  not  waiting  an  instant,  nor  seeing  the  winding 
garden-path.  She  rushed  across  the  circular  grass-plat,  and 
through  the  shrubbery  to  the  gate.  She  unbolted  the  gate, 
flung  it  back,  and  threw  it  open.  But  there  was  no  one 
there!  Inez  thought  she  heard  receding  steps  in  the  dark 
ness  ;  but,  if  so,  it  was  but  an  instant.  By  the  time  Antoine 
was  by  her  side,  all  was  midnight  silence. 

The  girl  compelled  the  frightened  Antoine  to  run  with  her 
to  the  corner  of  the  street.  But  all  was  still  as  death  in  the 
cross-street  to  which  she  led  him.  And  she  was  obliged  to 
return  to  the  house,  wondering,  had  she  been  asleep,  and  had 
she  dreamed?  Could  dreams  be  as  life-like  as  this  was? 
Inez  confessed  to  herself  that  she  had  dreamed  of  William 
Harrod  before ;  but  never  had  she  seen  his  face  or  heard 
his  voice  in  a  dream  which  had  such  reality  as  this. 

It  will  not  do  to  say  that  she  passed  a  sleepless  night. 
There  are  few  sleepless  nights  to  girls  of  her  age  and  health. 
But  the  sleep  was  broken  by  dreams,  and  they  were  always 
dreams  of  horror.  All  alone  she  was  indeed ;  and  such  was 
their  life  in  Orleans,  that  there  were  strangely  few  peop'e  to 
whom  the  girl  could  turn  for  counsel. 

So  soon  as  she  thought  it  would  answer  in  the  morning, 
she  went  out  herself  to  see  Mr.  Ruling,  resolved  to  intrust 
all  her  agonies  to  him,  as  she  should  have  done  at  the  first, 
she  now  thought.  Alas  !  at  sunrise,  Mr.  Huling  had  gone 
down  the  river,  on  an  errand  at  the  Balize,  which  would 
detain  him  many  days.  There  was  only  a  consul's  clerk,  a 


326  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

stranger,  clearly  inefficient,  though  willing  enough,  with  whom 
Inez  could  confide.  She  did  intrust  him  with  her  stoiy,  but 
she  did  not  make  him  feel  its  importance.  He  promised  her, 
however,  to  call  on  Mr.  Daniel  Clark  or  Mr.  Jones,  and  on 
young  Mr.  Bingaman,  and  to  be  governed  by  their  advice. 
He  undertook  to  persuade  her  that  she  was  unduly  alarmed. 
Her  father  was  visiting  some  friend.  He  would  be  back 
before  the  day  was  over.  For  such  is  the  way  in  which  igno 
rant  and  inefficient  men  usually  treat  women. 

Inez  had  more  success  in  rousing  the  interest  and  sympa 
thy  of  Mr.  Pollock,  one  of  her  father's  companions  and 
frends.  But  even  he,  interested  as  he  was,  did  not  want  to 
alarm  the  city  vainly.  Nor  did  Inez  want  to.  He  sent  an 
express  to  the  plantation,  and  lost  half  a  day  so,  in  justifying 
Inez  in  her  certainty  that  her  father  was  not  there.  And  in 
such  useless  fritter,  which  she  knew  was  useless,  the  day  was 
wasted,  before  he  brought  the  consul's  clerk  to  an  under 
standing  of  who  Silas  Perry  was,  and  that  some  inquiry  as  to 
his  welfare  was  incumbent  on  the  Americans  in  Orleans,  and 
on  those  who  represented  them. 

A  horrible  day  to  Inez.  She  was  becoming  a  woman  very 
fast  now. 

Just  before  dark,  when  her  loneliness  seemed  the  most 
bitter ;  when  she  had  done  every  thing  she  could  think  of 
doing,  had  turned  every  stone,  and  felt  that  she  had  utterly 
failed,  that  she  had  as  little  resource  as  poor  old  M.  Desbigny 
the  book-keeper  had,  —  she  heard  an  unexpected  sound; 
and  one  of  the  little  Chihuahua  dogs  which  the  girls  had 
brought  with  them  from  Antonio  —  the  token  of  Mr.  Lons- 
dale's  attention  —  jumped  upon  her  lap. 

"  One  being  that  has  not  left  me,  that  tries  to  find  me." 
This  was  Inez's  first  thought,  as  she  fondled  the  little  crea 
ture  ;  and  there  was  a  sort  of  guilty  thought  mingled  with 
it,  that  she  had  never  been  specially  attentive  to  her  pet 
He  was  a  pretty  creature,  but  he  was  Mr.  Lonsdale's  present 
Ma-ry  had  been  much  more  attentive  to  hers  ;  but  Inez  had 


OX,  "SHOW  YOUR 


3*7 


willingly  enough  left  her  dog  to  a  little  black  boy  at  the 
plantation.  And  now  this  little  fc  rsaken  wretch,  grateful  for 
such  scant  favors  as  Inez  had  bestowed, 
had  followed  her  down  the  river.  How 
did  he  get  here  to  be  her  companion  when 
she  had  no  other  ? 

Are  you  sure  of  that,  Inez  ? 

As  she  bent  over  the  little  wretch  to 
fondle  him,  she  felt  a  real  sinking  of 
heart  at  finding  that  it  was  not  Skip, 
after  all,  but  Trip.  Now,  Trip  was 
Ma-ry's  dog,  and  not  hers.  Trip  had 
escaped  from  convent  fare  to  the  more 
luxurious  home  he  was  first  used  to. 
Inez  was  so  angry  that  she  took  him  in 
both  hands  to  push  him  from  her  lap,  — 
when  her  hand  closed  on  a  little  bit  of 
paper  wound  tightly  round  his  back  leg, 
so  colored  with  charcoal  as  to  match  the 
hairless  skin  precisely. 

In  an  instant  Inez  had  clipped  the 
thread  which  bound  it,  and  took  the  scrap 
to  the  light. 

As  it  unrolled,  it  was  a  strip  of  paper 
several  inches  long,  very  narrow.  Not 
one  word  of  writing  on  it!  Ma-ry  had 
not  meant  to  risk  any  secrets.  But  in 
dingy  red  characters,  —  Inez  knew  only 
too  well  where  that  red  came  from, — 
in  the  Indian  hieroglyphic  with  which 
she  iind  Ma-ry  had  whilcd  away  so 
many  rainy  days,  was  a  legend  which 
answered,  oh.  so  many  questions ! 

There  was  the  sign  of  Ransom,  an  eye  strangely  cocked 
up  to  heaven ;  the  sign  or  token  of  Mr.  Perry,  two  feathers, 
cut  in  the  shape  to  which  the  old  fashioned  penmen  always 


v= 


328  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

trimmed  their  goose-quills.  Around  these  signs  was  a 
twisted  rope,  doubly  wreathed.  And  Inez  knew  that  this 
meant  that  both  Mr.  Perry  and  Ransom  were  in  prison. 
But  this  was  not  all,  but  only  the  beginning.  In  long  series, 
there  was  the  rising  sun ;  there  was  the  roof  of  a  house  ; 
there  was  a  hawk,  a  tree ;  strange  devices  defying  all  per 
spective  and  all  rules  of  design.  But  Inez  knew  their  mean 
ing,  and  wrought  out  the  sequence  from  the  beginning.  The 
legend  directed  her  to  take,  with  her  brother's  field-glass,  a 
little  before  the  sun  rose  the  next  morning,  some  station  from 
which  she  could  see  the  top  of  the  Ursuline  convent.  Ma-ry 
could  tell  her  by  the  pantomime  of  the  Indian  race,  what  she 
dared  not  commit  to  paper,  for  fear  some  adept  in  the  Indian 
hieroglyphic  might  catch  poor  Trip  as  he  worked  his  way 
from  the  convent  garden. 

Of  all  the  wonders  which  Roland  had  brought  home  from 
Paris,  nothing  had  delighted  Ma-ry  so  much  as  this  field- 
glass,  which  he  had  selected  from  the  workshop  of  the  Lere- 
bours  of  the  day.  Often  had  she  expatiated  to  him  and 
to  Inez  together,  on  the  advantages  of  this  instrument  to 
people  who  were  surrounded  with  enemies.  More  than  once 
had  Inez,  and  once  in  particular,  as  she  now  remembered, 
had  her  aunt,  tried  to  explain  to  Ma-ry  that  as  most  people 
lived  they  were  not  surrounded  with  enemies,  and  that  the 
uses  of  the  field-glass  were,  in  fact,  pacific.  But  this  girl 
had  grown  up  with  the  habit  of  questioning  every  rustling 
leaf.  She  had  not  been  persuaded  out  of  her  theory.  All 
this  talk  Inez  remembered  to-night,  as  she  wiped  the  lenses 
of  the  field-glass,  and  as  she  reconnoitred  the  garden  to 
make  sure  which  magnolia-tree  best  commanded  the  roof  of 
the  Ursulines'  convent 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  329 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

"Short  exhortations  need."  —  Neptune  in  OVID. 

BEFORE  it  was  light,  —  long  before  the  time  Ma-ry  had 
indicated  in  her  blood-red  letter,  —  Inez  was  working  her 
way  up  the  tall  magnolia  which  stood  south  of  the  house. 
She  had  taken  a  garden-ladder  to  the  lower  branches,  and 
now  scrambled  up  without  much  more  difficulty  than  the 
lizards  which  she  startled  as  she  did  so.  How  often  in  little- 
girl  days  had  she  climbed  this  very  tree,  Ransom  approving 
and  directing!  And  how  well  she  remembered  the  last 
victorious  ascent  for  a  white  bud  that  seemed  to  defy  all 
assault ;  and  then,  alas !  the  prohibition  which  had  crowned 
victory,  and  robbed  it  of  all  its  laurels,  as  her  aunt  and  even 
her  father  had  joined  against  her,  and  bidden  her  never 
climb  the  tree  again  ! 

Ah  me !  if  only  either  of  them  were  here,  she  would  not 
disobey  them  now !  How  wretched  to  be  her  own  mis 
tress  ! 

The  field-glass  was  swung  around  her  neck  by  its  strap ; 
and  the  girl  brought  in  her  hand  the  end  of  a  long  narrow 
pennon  of  white  cotton  cloth.  When  she  had  attained  a 
station  which  wholly  commanded  the  roof  of  St.  Ursula's 
shrine,  Inez  pulled  up  by  the  pennon  a  fishing-rod  which  she 
had  attached  to  it,  —  one  of  the  long  canes  from  the  brake 
which  are  the  joy  of  the  Louisiana  anglers,  —  and  thrust  the 
rod  high  above  her  head  into  the  air,  so  that  the  pennon 
waved  bravely  in  the  morning  breeze.  With  this  signal  Inez 


330  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

knew  she  could  say,  "I  understand,"  or  by  rapid  negatives 
could  order  any  thing  repeated. 

And  then  she  had  to  wait  and  wait  again,  her  eye  almost 
glued  to  the  eye-piece.  She  could  at  last  count  the  tiles  on 
the  roof-tree  of  the  convent.  She  could  see  a  lazy  lizard 
walk  over  them,  and  jump  when  he  caught  flies.  The  Ursu- 
lines'  is  not  far  away  from  Silas  Perry's  garden  ;  and,  but  for 
the  more  minute  signals  of  the  pantomime,  she  would  not 
have  needed  the  field-glass  at  all. 

Ready  as  she  was,  she  did  not  lose  one  moment  of  poor 
Ma-ry's  stolen  time.  Inez  at  last  saw  the  girl  appear  upon 
the  corridor  of  the  schoolroom,  —  what  in  older  countries 
would  have  been  called  a  cloister,  and  perhaps  was  in  St. 
Ursula's  fore-ordination.  She  passed  rapidly  along  to  the 
corner  where  a  China-tree  shaded  the  end  of  the  gallery. 
Without  looking  behind  her,  she  sprung  upon  the  railing  •  she 
was  in  the  tree  in  a  moment,  and  in  a  moment  more  had  left 
it,  to  stand  unencumbered  on  the  roof  of  this  wing  of  the  spa 
cious  buildings. 

When  people  in  a  house  are  looking  for  a  person  out  of 
a  house,  there  is  no  point  so  difficult  for  them  to  observe  as 
the  top  of  that  house ;  and  there  is  no  point  which  they  so 
little  think  of  searching. 

Ma-ry  had  had  less  to  do  with  houses  than  any  person  in 
Orleans,  if  one  excepts  a  few  old  Caddo  hags  who  crouched 
around  the  market ;  but  she  had  made  the  observation  just 
now  put  on  paper,  before  she  had  been  in  Nacogdoches  an 
hour. 

If  eleven  thousand  virgins  of  St.  Ursula  searched  for  her  in 
eleven  thousand  niches,  or  under  eleven  thousand  beds,  they 
would  not  find  her;  and,  while  they  were  searching,  she 
would  be  telling  the  truth,  —  a  business  at  which  she  was 
good,  and  which  St.  Ursula  herself  probably  would  not  dis 
approve. 

The  girl  turned  to  Silas  Perry's  garden,  saw  the  pennon, 
and  clapped  her  hands  gladly. 


OA,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  331 

The  pennon  waved  gracefully  in  sympathy. 

Then  the  pantomime  began.  Grief, — bitter  grief ;  cer 
tainty,  —  utter  certainty ;  and  then  the  sign  for  yesterday. 
She  was  very  sorry  for  the  news,  she  was  certain  it  was  true, 
and  she  had  only  known  it  yesterday. 

The  pennon  waved  gently  its  sympathy,  and  its  steady  "  I 
understand." 

The  girl  walked  freely  from  place  to  place,  and  made  her 
gestures  as  boldly  as  a  mistress  of  ballet  would  do  in  pres 
ence  of  three  thousand  people. 

Ransom  was  taken  nine  days  ago.  He  is  now  in  the  sol 
diers'  room  under  the  court-house,  next  the  cathedral.  Ever 
since,  they  have  been  trying  to  find  Mr.  Perry  alone.  Day 
before  yesterday  they  found  him  and  took  him.  He  is  in  the 
governor's  own  house.  After  early  mass  yesterday,  one  of 
the  fathers  came  to  the  convent,  as  was  his  custom.  After  he 
had  confessed  three  novices,  he  had  a  talk  with  Sister  Bar 
bara.  He  told  her  what  Ma-ry  told  Inez.  Sister  Barbara 
told  Sister  Helena,  in  presence  of  a  Mexican  girl  whom  Ma-rj 
had  been  kind  to.  The  Mexican  girl  told  Ma-ry. 

Ma-ry  thought  that  Ransom  and  Mr.  Perry  were  both  to  be 
sent  to  Cuba. 

Cuba  was  intimated  by  an  island  which  would  be  reached 
by  a  voyage  of  ten  days,  —  an  island  in  which  there  were  a 
thousand  Spanish  soldiers. 

Lest  any  news  should  be  sent  after  this  vessel,  an  embargo 
on  all  vessels  would  be  ordered  for  a  fortnight.  The  embargo 
was  denoted  by  rowers,  who  were  suddenly  stopped  in  their 
paddling.  Ma-ry  had  to  repeat  this  signal,  because  the  pen 
non  waved  uncertainty.  When  she  was  sure  all  was  under 
stood,  she  kissed  her  hand,  and  then,  pointing  to  the  rising 
sun,  bade  Inez  keep  tryst  the  next  day  but  one. 

The  glad  pennon  nodded  its  assent  cheerfully,  and  Ma-rj 
disappeared. 

News  indeed ! 

Inez  wrote  this  note  to  Mr.  Bingaman :  — 


332  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

INEZ  PERRY  TO  MICAH  BINGAMAN. 

THURSDAY  MORNING. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  BINGAMAN,  — I  have  just  learned,  and  am  certain,  that 
my  father  is  in  confinement  in  the  government  house. 

Old  Ransom,  our  servant,  who  disappeared  ten  days  ago,  is  shut  up 
closely  in  the  guard-house. 

Both  of  them  are  to  be  sent  to  Cuba*;  and,  for  fear  the  news  shall  be 
sent  down  the  river,  an  embargo  will  be  proclaimed  to-day. 

I  beg  you  to  press  up  the  consul's  clerk  to  some  prompt  action.  Can 
not  Mr.  Clark  be  sent  for  ?  Respectfully  yours, 

INEZ  PERRY; 

Well  written,  Inez  !  You  are  becoming  a  woman,  indeed  ! 
Sister  Barbara  does  not  teach  one  to  write  such  letters ;  and 
I  am  not  sure  that  even  St.  Ursula  fore-ordained  them,  or 
looked  down  to  them  through  the  prophetic  vista  of  many 
years. 

Antoine  was  sent  with  this  note  to  Mr.  Bingaman  ;  and 
really  glad,  for  the  first  time,  that  there  was  any  thing  she 
could  do,  Inez  ordered  her  breakfast,  and  sat  down,  determin 
ing  very  fast  what  she  would  do  next. 

And  this  time  the  girl  ate  her  breakfast  with  a  will. 

As  she  finished  it,  she  heard  a  question  at  the  back  steps 
of  the  corridor,  on  the  brick  walk  which  led  to  the  kitchen, 
and  then  a  sort  of  altercation  with  the  smart  Antoine. 

"  Ask  Miss  Perry,"  said  a  stranger  in  very  bad  French, 
which  Antoine  knew  was  no  Creole's,  "  if  she  does  not  want 
to  buy  somey£/<?." 

Antoine  did  not  reflect  that  his  young  mistress  overheard 
every  word  ;  and  with  accent  more  precise  than  the  stran 
ger's,  but  with  expression  far  less  civil,  told  him  to  go  to  hell 
with  his  sassafras,  that  the  sassafras  of  Little  Vernon  was 
worth  all  other  sassafras,  and  that  he  was  to  leave  the  garden 
as  soon  as  might  be. 

Inez  needed  no  nerving  for  her  first  contest  with  Antoine. 
She  rang  sharply. 

"  Antoine,  you  are  never  to  speak  to  any  person  so  in  my 
house.  Go  beg  the  man's  pardon,  and  bid  him  come  in." 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  333 

Antoine  went  out,  mumbled  some  apology,  and  returned 
much  crestfallen  with  the  huckster. 

Inez  had  never  said  "  my  house"  before. 

Inez  rose.  She  scarcely  looked  at  the  man,  who  was, 
indeed,  the  wildest  creature  that  even  the  Sunday  market 
could  have  shown  her.  Bare  feet,  red  with  mud  which  must 
have  clung  to  them  for  days ;  trousers  of  skin  patched  with 
cottonade,  or  cottonade  patched  with  skin  ;  hair  bushy  and 
curling,  covering  and  concealing  the  face ;  and  the  face  itself 
browned  so  that  it  would  be  hard  to  say  whether  it  were 
Indian,  mulatto,  or  Spanish,  by  the  color.  A  miserable 
Indian  blanket  torn  in  twenty  holes,  of  which  the  largest  let 
through  the  wearer's  head,  gave  the  only  intimation  as  to  his 
nationality. 

Inez  lifted  the  dried  leaves  in  her  hand,  tasted  some  of  the 
fibres,  and  said,  — 

"  Youry£/<?  is  very  good  ;  I  wish  you  had  brought  us  more. 
Take  the  basket  into  the  herb-room."  Then  to  the  obsequi 
ous  Antoine,  who  led  the  way,  "  No,  Antoine,  wait  at  the 
gate  for  Mr.  Bingaman's  message :  or  no,  Antoine ;  go,  ask 
him  if  he  has  no  answer  for  me.  I  will  show  the  man  up 
stairs." 

The  savage  shouldered  his  basket,  and  followed  Inez.  She 
threw  open  the  door  of  a  corner  room  in  the  attic  story.  He 
brought  the  basket  in,  and  kicked  the  door  to  behind  him  ; 
and  then,  and  not  till  then,  did  Inez  rush  to  him,  seized  both 
his  hands  in  hers,  looked  upon  him  with  such  joy  as  an  hour 
before  she  would  have  said  was  impossible,  and  then  said,  — 

"Am  I  awake?  Can  it  be  true?  Where  did  you  come 
trom  ?  " 

"  Dear  Miss  Inez,"  said  Will  Harrod.  "  it  is  true ;  you  are 
wide  awake  ;  and  your  welcome,"  he  added  boldly,  "  pays  for 
the  sufferings  of  years." 

"  Welcome  !     You  knew  you  were  welcome,  Will !  " 

She  had  never  called  him  "  Will "  before  ;  and  they  both 
knew  it.  Her  cheeks  flushed  fire,  and  they  were  both,  oh! 
so  glad  and  so  happy  ! 


334  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

"There  never  was  a  time  when  I  needed  you  so  much,' 
said  she  eagerly,  as  she  made  him  sit  down. 

"  There  never  is  a  time  when  I  do  not  need  you,"  said  he 
bravely. 

"  But  why  are  you  in  all  this  rig  ?  I  thought  I  must  not 
let  Antoine  know." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  right.  You  are  certainly  prudent 
and  wise.  Heavens  !  How  careful  I  have  been  for  the  last 
forty-eight  hours !  Are  they  all  crazy  here  ? " 

"  I  believe  the  governor  is  crazy.  The  intendant  is  surely. 
But  do  you  know  what  they  have  done?  My  father  is  in 
prison,  and  Ransom,  dear  old  Ransom,  too." 

"  In  prison  ?  " 

"  In  prison,  and  are  to  go  to  Cuba.  You  know  what  that 
means.  But  I  feel  now  as  if  something  could  be  done,  now 
you  are  here.  How  are  you  here  ?  Oh,  Mr.  Harrod,  they 
all  told  me  you  were  dead !  " 

And  here  the  poor  girl  fairly  cried ;  and,  for  a  moment, 
lost  her  self-command. 

"  Did  you  think  I  was  dead  ?  "  said  he  eagerly. 

"  Think  so  ?  I  knew  so  till  Tuesday  night :  then  I  dreamed 
I  saw  your  head  over  the  garden  gate,  and  it  called  me,  — 
twice  it  called  me." 

"  Yes,"  said  Harrod  laughing ;  "  and  it  called  very  loud, 
and  it  called  Caesar  and  Ransom  too.  But,  before  anybody 
could  come,  the  men  with  sticks  were  after  the  head,  and  the 
poor  head  had  to  run,  and  to  hide  again  till  this  morning.  I 
gave  them  the  slip  this  time." 

'*  It  was  you  ?  It  was  you  ?  Then,  I  am  not  a  fool !  But, 
Mr.  Harrod,  you  called  Cassar :  do  you  not  know?  " 

"  Know,  my  dearest  Miss  Inez  ?  I  know  nothing.  I  only 
know,  that  after  escaping  from  those  rascally  Comanches, 
after  stan  ing  to  sleep,  and  waking  so  crazy  with  hunger  that 
I  thought  I  was  in  purgatory,  after  such  a  story  of  struggle 
and  misery  as  would  touch  a  Turk's  heart,  I  came  out  at 
Natchitoches  for  help,  to  be  clapped  into  their  guard-house. 


OA>,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  335 

Then  I  knocked  two  idiots'  heads  together,  blew  out  what 
brains  one  had  with  his  own  gun,  trusted  to  my  friendly  river 
again,  and  worked  my  way  down  on  a  log  to  Point  Coupe'e,  to 
be  arrested  again  by  a  guarda  costa.  I  bided  my  time  till 
they  were  all  blind  drunk  one  night,  stole  their  boat,  and 
floated  down  here,  to  be  arrested,  this  time,  for  stealing  the 
boat.  But  I  am  used  to  breaking  bounds.  Tuesday  I  took 
refuge  with  some  friendly  Caddoes,  and,  by  Jove  !  the  savage 
protects  what  the  white  man  hunts  to  death.  My  own  cos 
tume  was  not  so  select  as  this.  I  owe  this  to  their  munifi 
cence." 

"  I  thought  you  were  dressed  like  a  prince,"  said  Inez 
frankly.  "  Now  you  have  come,  all  will  be  well." 

Then  came  a  little  consultation.  Inez  explained  to  him 
the  reign  of  terror  in  which  they  lived,  so  far  as  it  could  be 
explained.  But  she  found,  first  of  all,  that  she  must  break 
his  heart  by  telling  of  Phil  Nolan's  fate,  and  Fanny  Lintot's. 
All  through  his  perils,  he  had  heard  no  word  of  that  mas 
sacre.  His  calling  for  Caesar  had  given  her  the  first  suspi 
cion  of  his  ignorance. 

How  much  there  was  to  tell  him,  and  how  much  for  him  to 
tell  her ! 

Inez  bravely  told  the  horrid  story  of  Phil  Nolan's  death. 
She  told  him,  as  frankly  as  she  could,  why  she  did  not  at  first 
believe  that  he  was  in  the  party ;  and  then,  how  Cassar  had 
confirmed  her.  But  all  hope  for  his  life  was  over,  she  said, 
when  Mr.  Perry  had  found  the  news  of  Richards's  treason, 
and  the  others,  as  Mr.  Perry  had  found  it,  and  as  the  reader 
has  heard  it.  Two  years  had  gone  by  since  the  gay  young 
man  had  bidden  them  good-by  in  sight  of  the  San  Antonio 
crosses. 

"  But  now  you  have  come,"  she  said  again  bravely,  "  all 
will  be  well ;  and  now  we  must  look  forward,  and  not  back. 
Do  you  remember  that  ?  " 

"  It  has  saved  my  life  a  hundred  times,"  said  he.  "  God 
only  knows  where  I  should  be,"  he  added  reverently,  "  if  I 
had  not  remembered  to  look  up,  and  not  down." 


336  miLIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS: 

"  These  people  have  lost  the  track  of  you,  as  the  knockei 
of  heads  together.  You  have  now  only  to  dress,  pardon 
me,"  said  she,  really  merry  now  —  to  think  that  she  should 
ever  be  merry  again  !  —  "  and  to  shave,  and  then  you  may 
walk  unrecognized  through  our  valiant  army.  Go  into  my 
brother's  room,"  she  said.  She  led  him  in,  and  unlocked  the 
wardrobes.  "  See  what  you  can  find :  there  must  be  some 
razors  somewhere." 

"If  my  right  hand  has  not  lost  its  cunning,"  said  Harrod, 
entering  into  her  mood. 

"  Take  what  you  find,"  said  she.  "  I  wish  only  dear 
Roland  were  here  to  help  you.  He  is  not  as  stout  as  you 
are,  but  perhaps  you  can  manage." 

And  so  she  hurried  down-stairs,  happy  enough,  to  forget 
for  a  minute  or  two  her  weight  of  anxiety. 


OR,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  337 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

SAVAGE   LIFE. 

"  And  as  his  bones  were  big,  and  sinews  strong, 
Refused  no  toil  that  could  to  slaves  belong, 
But  used  his  noble  hands  the  wood  to  hew." 

Palamon  and  Arctic, 

WILLIAM  HARROD  had  indeed  lived  through  a  lifetime  of 
horrors  in  the  period  since  he  had  parted  from  these  ladies 
above  San  Antonio  Bexar. 

It  is  of  such  adventures  that  the  personal  history  of  the 
pioneers  who  gave  to  us  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi  is  full ; 
but  it  is  very  seldom  that  personal  history  crowds  together 
so  much  of  danger,  and  so  much  of  trial,  in  so  short  a  time. 

So  soon  as  he  knew  that  he  was  a  prisoner,  Harrod  frankly 
accepted  the  situation  of  a  prisoner,  with  that  readiness  to 
adapt  himself  to  his  surroundings  which  gave  at  once  the 
charm  and  the  strength  to  his  character.  He  was  to  be  a 
slave.  The  business  of  a  slave  was  to  obey.  That  business 
he  would  learn  and  fulfil ;  not,  indeed,  with  the  slightest 
purpose  of  remaining  in  that  position,  but  because  a  man 
ought  to  make  the  best  of  any  position,  however  odious. 
With  the  same  cheerful  good-temper,  therefore,  with  which 
he  would  have  complied  with  a  whim  of  Inez,  whom  he  loved, 
or  a  wish  of  Eunice,  whom  he  respected,  he  now  complied 
with  a  whim  of  the  Long  Horn,  whom  at  the  bottom  of  his 
heart  he  hated,  and  whom  he  would  abandon  at  the  first 
instant.  Nor  was  here  any  treachery  to  the  Long  Horn.  If 
Harrod  or  the  Long  Horn  could  have  analyzed  the  sentiment, 


33?  PHILIP  NOLAN^S  FRIEXDS: 

it  was  based  on  pride,  —  the  pride  of  a  man  who  knew  so 
thoroughly  that  he  was  the  Long  Horn's  superior  that  he 
need  not  make  any  parade  about  it.  He  submitted  to  his 
exactions  as  a  sensible  person  may  submit  to  the  exactions  ol 
a  child  whom  for  an  hour  he  has  in  charge,  but  for  whose 
education  he  has  no  other  opportunities,  and  is  not  responsi 
ble. 

Day  after  day,  therefore,  the  Long  Horn  had  mere  and 
more  reason  to  congratulate  himself  on  the  slave  he  had  in 
hand.  He  did  not  congratulate  himself.  A  process  so 
intricate,  and  so  much  approaching  to  reflection,  did  not 
belong  to  the  man  or  to  his  race.  But  he  did  leave  to  Har- 
rod,  more  and  more,  those  cares  for  which  the  women  of  his 
lodges  were  too  weak,  and  for  which  he  was  too  lazy ;  and 
of  such  cares,  in  the  life  of  a  clan  of  shirks  and  cowards, 
there  are  not  a  few. 

Harrod  himself  was  able  to  learn  some  things,  and  to 
teach  many,  without  his  pupils  knowing  that  they  were  taught. 
This  does  not  mean,  as  a  missionary  board  may  suppose,  that 
he  built  a  log-cabin,  sent  to  Chihuahua  for  primers  and  writing- 
books,  and  set  the  Long  Horn  and  the  False  Heart  to  learn 
ing  their  letters  and  their  pot-hooks.  He  taught  them  how 
to  take  care  of  their  horses ;  and  many  a  poor  brute,  galled 
and  wincing,  had  to  thank  him  for  relief.  He  simplified 
their  systems  of  corralling  and  of  tethering.  And  on  his  own 
part,  thorough-bred  woodman  as  he  was,  his  eyes  were  open 
every  moment  to  learn  something  in  that  art  which  is  so 
peculiarly  the  accomplishment  of  a  gentleman,  that  no  man 
without  some  skill  in  it  can  be  called  a  chevalier. 

It  was  to  such  arts  that  he  soon  owed  a  dignity  in  the 
itribe  which  materially  tended  to  his  own  comfort,  and  ulti- 
smately  effected  his  escape. 

The  great  wealth  of  the  Indians  of  the  plains  of  the  Colo 
rado  of  the  West,  and  even  of  the  mountains,  was  in  their 
;horses.  They  treated  them  horribly,  partly  from  ignorance, 
^partly  from  carelessness,  but  not  because  they  did  not  value 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  339 

them.  It  is  a  mistake  of  the  political  economists  to  sup 
pose  that  selfishness  will  compel  us  to  be  tender  when  our 
passions  are  aroused.  Of  course  the  easiest  way  to  obtain  a 
good  horse  was  to  steal  him,  as  these  fellows  had  stolen 
Harrod's.  In  periods  either  of  unusual  need  or  of  unusual 
courage,  they  pounced  on  a,  Spanish  outpost,  and  so  provided 
themselves.  Perhaps  they  won  horses  in  fight,  as  the  result 
of  a  contest  in  which  large  numbers  overpowered  small,  — the 
only  occasion  in  which  they  ever  fought  willingly.  Failing 
such  opportunities,  they  were  fain  to  catch  the  wild  horses, 
and,  after  their  fashion,  to  break  them  to  their  uses.  They 
were  passionately  fond  of  horse-racing,  which  is  not  to  be 
counted  as  only  an  accomplishment  of  civilized  men.  , 

So  great  is  the  power  of  the  man  over  the  brute,  that  one 
man  alone,  and  he  on  foot,  can,  in  the  end,  walk  down  and 
take  captive  even  the  mustang  *  of  the  prairies.  It  would 
be  only  in  an  extreme  case,  of  course,  that  that  experiment 
would  be  tried.  But  two  men  alone  can  catch  their  horses 
from  a  herd  even  of  wild  ones,  almost  as  well  as  if  they  had 
more  companions.  If  they  be  mounted,  so  much  the  easier 
for  them. 

In  the  sublime  indolence  of  the  Comanche  chiefs,  there 
fore,  horses  beginning  to  fail,  the  Long  Horn  and  the  Sheep's 
Tail  each  of  them  detached  a  slave  to  the  hard  job  of  taking 
three  or  four  horses  each  for  them,  which  they  would  next 
have  to  break  to  the  saddle. 

The  method  of  capture  is  based  on  the  habit  of  the  wild 
horse  to  keep  at  or  near  his  home.  He  knows  that  home  as 
well  as  the  queen-bee  knows  hers ;  and  his  range  is  probably 
not  much  wider  than  that  through  which  her  subjects  wander. 
Each  herd  has  its  captain,  or  director ;  and  this  director  does 
not  lead  it  more  than  fifteen,  or  at  the  utmost  twenty  miles, 
in  one  direction.  When  he  has  passed  that  limit,  he  returns, 
and  leads  his  herd  with  him  to  the  region  which  is  familiar  to 
them. 

1  The  derivation  is  said  to  be  from  the  Spanish  "  mestrna,"  --that  which  is 
common  property,  or  belongs  to  the  state,  "  mesta.'1 


340  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FKIENDS  ; 

The  hunter  observes  this  limit  for  any  particular  herd  of 
horses,  and  then  knows  what  his  duty  is.  He  builds  a 
corral  ready  for  his  captives.  Then  one  of  the  two  pursuers, 
if  the  party  be  as  small  as  in  Harrod's  case,  follows  the  herd 
even  leisurely.  They  only  follow  close  enough  to  have  their 
presence  observed.  The  stallion  who  leads,  leads  at  such 
pace  as  he  chooses,  avoiding  the  pursuer  by  such  route  as  he 
chooses.  If  the  herd  turned  against  the  pursuer,  they  could 
trample  him  into  the  ground.  But  they  do  not  turn  :  they 
avoid  him.  The  pursuer  keeps  steadily  behind.  At  a  time 
agreed  upon,  one  of  the  two  men  stops  with  his  horse  for 
rest  and  sleep  ;  the  other  "  takes  up  the  wondrous  tale,"  and 
for  twelve  hours  keeps  close  enough  to  the  wandering  herd 
to  keep  them  moving ;  in  turn  he  stops  and  sleeps  ;  but  his 
companion  is  awake  by  this  time,  has  found  the  trail,  and 
keeps  the  poor  hunted  creatures  in  motion.  There  is  no  stop 
to  sleep  for  them  ;  and  so  jaded  and  worn  down  are  they  by  a 
few  days  and  nights  of  this  motion  —  almost  constant  and 
without  sleep  —  that  at  last  no  thong  nor  lasso  is  needed  for 
their  capture.  You  may  at  last  walk  up  to  the  tired  beast 
who  has  lost  his  night's  rest  so  long,  twist  your  hand  into  his 
mane,  and  lead  him  unresisting  into  the  corral  you  have  pro 
vided  for  him.  Poor  brute  !  Only  let  him  rest,  and  you  may 
do  what  else  you  will. 

On  such  an  enterprise  Will  Harrod  was  sent  with  the 
Crooked  Finger,  a  young  brave  who  was  young  enough  to 
have  some  enterprise,  and  proud  enough  to  be  pleased  at 
being  trusted  with  so  good  a  woodman  as  Harrod.  Each  of 
them  was  respectably  mounted,  —  not  very  well  mounted,  for 
the  Long  Horn  and  the  Sheep's  Tail  had  but  few  horses, 
or  they  would  not  be  hunting  more,  and  they  wanted  the 
best  horses  for  themselves.  Nor,  for  this  line  of  horse-taking, 
was  speed  so  essential.  The  young  fellows  found  the  herd, 
and  made  a  good  guess  as  to  its  more  frequent  haunts  ;  then 
they  built  their  little  corral;  then  they  took  a  long  night's 
sleep;  then  they  started  for  the  trail,  soon  found  it,  and  soon 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  341 

overtook  the  animals  they  sought.  Harrod  was  magnanimous 
as  always ;  he  bade  the  Crooked  Finger  take  the  first  rest ; 
he  would  follow  the  herd  through  the  twelve  hours  of  that 
moonlight  night,  and  at  dawn  of  the  sun  the  Crooked  Finger 
must  strike  in.  When  Harrod  had  reason  to  suppose  that  he 
was  well  on  the  trail,  he  also  would  stop,  and  he  and  his 
horse  would  sleep. 

For  two  days  and  two  nights  this  amusement  continued. 
An  occasional  pull  at  some  dried  meat  kept  soul  and  body 
together ;  and  the  horses  and  the  men  followed  their  unevent 
ful  round,  which  was,  in  fact,  a  very  irregular  oval. 

As  Crooked  Finger  finished  his  second  tour  of  service,  he 
saw  Harrod  just  mounting  for  his  third.  They  simply 
nodded  to  each  other ;  but  Harrod  dismounted,  and  busied 
himself  with  his.  horse's  mouth  and  rein.  Crooked  Finger 
approached,  and  gave  some  brief  report  of  the  day's  pursuit, 
to  which  Harrod  replied  by  the  proper  ughs ;  and  then,  as 
Crooked  Finger  dismounted,  he  seized  the  savage  in  his  iron 
arms,  much  as  he  remembered  to  have  been  seized  himself 
by  the  Long  Horn,  fastened  his  elbows  tight  behind  him  with 
a  leather  thong,  and  kicked  his  horse  so  resolutely  that  the 
horse  disappeared.  Harrod's  horse  was  tethered  too  tightly 
to  follow  him. 

"  Good-by,  Crooked  Finger,"  said  Harrod  good-naturedly. 
"  Here  is  meat  enough,  if  you  are  careful,  to  take  you  to  the 
lodges.  I  am  going  home." 

The  vanquished  savage  made  not  a  struggle,  and  uttered 
not  a  sound.  In  Harrod's  place  he  would  have  scalped  the 
other,  and  he  knew  it.  He  supposed  that  Harrod  did  not 
scalp  him,  only  because  he  had  no  scalping-knife. 

Harrod  was  free ;  and,  so  far  did  he  have  the  advantage  of 
the  tribe,  that  they  made  no  attempt  to  follow  him.  And  he 
never  feared  their  pursuit  for  one  moment.  But  he  did  fear 
other  captors,  and  he  feared  want  of  food.  This  meat  pro 
vided  for  the  hunt  would  not  last  forever.  This  somewhat 
sorry  beast  he  rode  must  have  time  to  feed.  The  hu  iting 


342  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

of  a  man  who  has  neither  knife,  gun,  nor  arrows,  is  but  pool 
hunting,  —  for  food,  not  very  nutritious ;  and  poor  Harrod 
knew  that  the  time  might  come  when  he  should  be  glad  of 
the  sorriest  meal  he  had  ever  eaten  in  a  Comanche  lodge. 
But  Harrod  was  free,  and  freedom  means  —  ah !  a  great 
deal! 

This  chapter  cannot  tell,  and  must  not  try  to  tell,  the 
adventures  of  days  and  weeks,  even  of  months,  at  last 
lengthening  out  into  the  second  year  of  his  exile,  as,  by  one 
device  and  another,  the  poor  fellow  worked  eastward  and 
still  eastward.  He  came  out  upon  the  lodges  of  the  Upper 
Red  River,  where  Phil  Nolan  had  smoked  the  pipe  of  peace 
only  the  year  before.  He  found  the  memory  of  his  great 
commander  held  in  high  esteem  there ;  and  he  had  wit  to 
represent  himself  as  a  scout  from  his  party,  only  accidentally 
separated  from  them  for  a  few  days.  Nicoroco  remembered 
the  calumet  of  peace,  and  tidings  had  come  to  him  of 
Nolan's  discipline  of  One  Eye,  a  memory  which  served  Will 
Harrod  well ;  and,  after  a  sojourn  of  a  few  days  with  Nico 
roco,  Harrod  proceeded,  refreshed,  upon  his  way. 

It  was  after  this  oasis  in  the  desert  of  that  year's  life,  that 
the  most  serious  of  his  adventures  came.  He  had  been 
hunted  by  a  troop  of  savages,  of  which  nation  he  knew  not, 
but  whom  he  dared  not  trust.  He  was  satisfied  that  the 
time  had  come  when  he  must  do  what  he  had  all  along  in 
tended  to  do,  —  abandon  his  poor  brute,  who  was  more  and 
more  worthless  every  day,  and  trust  himself  to  the  swollen 
current  of  the  magnificent  Red  River.  Such  raft  as  he  could 
make  for  himself  must  bear  him  down  till  he  could  commu 
nicate  with  the  pioneer  French  settlements,  and  be  safe. 

He  knew  very  well,  in  this  crisis,  that  it  was  the  last  step 
which  would  cost.  But  Harrod  was  beyond  counting  risks 
now :  he  risked  every  thing  every  day. 

It  is  not  so  easy  to  make  a  raft,  when  one  has  not  even  a 
jack-knife.  Trees  do  not  accidentally  rot  into  the  shapes  one 
wants,  or  the  lengths  one  can  handle.  But  Ilarrod's  ambi- 


OK,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  343 

tion  for  his  raft  was  not  aspiring.  Two  logs,  so  b  aced  and 
tied  that  they  should  not  roll  under  him,  —  only  this,  and 
nothing  more,  was  the  raft  which  he  needed.  In  a  long, 
anxious  day,  the  logs  were  found.  With  grape-vines  mostly, 
and  with  the  invaluable  leather  thongs  which  had  been  his 
reins  so  long,  the  obdurate  twisted  sticks  were  compelled  to 
cling  together.  Their  power  of  floating  was  not  much ;  but 
they  were  well  apart  from  each  other  in  one  place,  and  there 
Harrod  wedged  in  a  shorter  log,  which  was  to  be  his  wet 
throne.  And  so,  with  a  full  supply  of  poles  and  misshapen 
paddles,  he  pushed  off  upon  his  voyage.  The  boiling  and 
whirling  stream  bore  him  swiftly  down;  and  there  was  at 
least  the  comfort  of  knowing  that  the  last  act  of  this  tedious 
drama  had  come.  How  the  play  would  turn  out,  he  would 
know  before  long. 

Day  after  clay  of  this  wild  riding  of  the  waters  !  And,  for 
food,  the  poorest  picking,  —  grapes,  well-nigh  raisins  for  dry- 
ness,  astringent  enough  at  the  best ;  sassafras  bark  was  a 
flavor,  but  not  nourishing ;  snails  sometimes  ;  and  once  or 
twice  a  foolish  fish,  caught  by  the  rudest  of  machinery :  but 
very  little  at  the  very  best.  "How  many  hired  servants  of 
my  father  have  bread  enough  and  to  spare !  "  said  poor  Will 
Harrod  ;  for  he  was  very  hungry. 

Where  he  was,  he  did  not  know  :  only  he  was  on  the  Red 
River  above  "  the  Raft."  His  hope  was  to  come  to  "  the 
Raft :  "  then  he  should  only  be  two  or  three  days  from  the 
highest  French  farms.  Only  two  or  three  days,  Will  Har 
rod,  with  nothing  to  eat !  Armies  have  perished,  because  for 
twenty-four  hours  the  regular  ration  did  not  come. 

Even  the  Red  River  could  not  last  forever.  At  last  he 
came  to  a  raft,  so  thick  and  impassable  that  he  hoped  it  was 
the  Great  Raft.  Any  reader  who  has  seen  the  tangled  mass 
of  timber  above  a  saw-mill  can  imagine  what  the  Great  Raft 
was,  if  he  will  remember  that  it  was  made  up,  not  of  felled 
logs,  but  of  trees  with  their  branches,  as  for  centuries  they 
had  been  whirled  down  the  stream.  First  formed  at  a  nar- 


344  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

row  gorge  of  the  Red  River,  it  extended  upwai  d,  at  this  time, 
one  hundred  and  thirty  miles.  The  river  flawed  beneath. 
Soil  gathered  above.  Trees  took  root,  and  grew  upon  it  to  be 
large  and  strong.  In  high  water  the  river  found  other  courses 
round  it.  On  parts  of  the  Raft  a  man  could  travel.  Through 
parts  of  it,  a  canoe  could  sail.  It  was  this  wreck  of  matter, 
—  this  "  tohu  va  bohu"  —  the  utter  confusion  of  water  which 
was  not  land,  and  land  which  was  not  water,  which  marked 
for  Will  Harrod  the  end  of  his  navigation. 

With  the  precious  thongs,  a  bit  of  sharp  flint,  and  the  tail 
of  an  imprudent  cat-fish,  as  his  only  baggage,  he  landed  on 
the  bank  not  far  above  the  water-line,  and  boldly  pushed 
down  on  the  southern  shore.  He  thought  Nachitoches  could 
not  be  a  hundred  miles  away  ;  and  that  night  he  slept  well. 
The  next  day  he  made  good  time.  Little  to  eat,  for  no  cat 
fish  rose  to  his  bait ;  still  that  night  he  slept  well.  The  next 
day  came  the  worst  repulse  of  all. 

A  bayou  back  from  the  stream  —  all  gorged  with  bark  and 
trees  and  wreck  like  the  main  river  —  cut  off  his  eastward 
course.  Nothing  for  it  but  to  return  ! 

Never  !  That  way  was  sure  death.  Will  ventured  on  the 
Raft  itself.  To  cross  the  bayou  proved  impossible.  One 
could  not  swim  there  :  one  could  not  walk  there,  more  than 
one  could  fly.  But  the  river  itself  was  here  more  practica 
ble,  —  not  for  swimming,  but  for  walking.  £'o  old  was  the 
Raft  that  the  logs  had  rotted  on  the  surface,  ind  weeds  and 
bushes  had  grown  there.  It  was  more  like  a  bit  of  prairie, 
than  of  river.  One  must  watch  every  step.  Still  one  could 
walk  here ;  and,  though  the  channel  was  very  broad  here, 
Will  Harrod  held  his  course,  slowly  and  not  confidently. 

No  food  that  day !  not  a  snail,  not  a  grape,  not  a  lizard, 
far  less  red-fish  or  cat-fish.  And  that  night's  sleep  was 
not  so  sound.  Water  is  but  little  refreshment,  when  one 
breakfasts  on  a  few  handfuls  of  it,  after  such  a  day;  but 
with  such  breakfast  Will  Harrod  must  keep  on.  Keep  on 
he  did ;  but  he  knew  his  legs  dragged,  that  he  missed  his 


OR.   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS,"  345 

foothold  when  he  ought  not,  and  that  his  head  spun  weirdly, 
that  he  did  not  see  things  well. 

"  This  is  one  way  to  die,"  said  poor  Will  aloud.  And  then, 
sitting  on  a  moss-grown  cypress  stick,  he  looked  wistfully 
round  him  ;  and  then,  when  a  belated  grasshopper  lighted  by 
his  side,  with  a  clutch  of  frenzy  he  snatched  the  creature, 
and  held  him  helpless  in  his  hand. 

Victory  i 

The  grasshopper,  yet  living,  was  tied  tight  to  the  end  of 
the  little  thong  which  had  served  for  a  line  all  along.  A 
stout  acacia-thorn,  one  of  a  dozen  at  Harrod's  girdle,  was 
tied  in  a  knot  just  above.  And,  with  cheerfulness  he  had 
thought  impossible,  he  went  to  the  nearest  open  hole,  to  bob 
and  bob  again  for  his  life. 

But  how  soon  the  dizziness  returned  !  How  many  hours 
did  he  sit  there  in  the  sun  ?  Will  Harrod  never  knew.  Only 
at  last,  a  gulp,  a  pull  at  the  cord,  and  a  noble  fish  —  food  for 
three  or  four  days,  as  Will  Harrod  had  been  using  food  — 
was  in  the  air,  —  was  flapping  on  the  so-called  ground  at  his 
side. 

Victory ! 

With  the  bit  of  sharpened  stone  which  had  served  him  all 
along,  he  killed  the  fish,  opened  him,  and  cleaned  him.  Little 
thought  or  care  for  fire  !  He  returned  carefully  to  his  lair,  to 
put  by  the  sacred  implements  of  the  chase,  which  had  served 
him  so  well.  Weak  as  he  was,  he  tripped,  —  his  foot  was 
tangled  in  a  grape-vine,  —  and  he  fell.  As  he  disentangled 
himself,  he  could  see  an  alligator  rise  —  not  very  rapidly, 
either — from  the  stream,  make  directly  to  the  prize;  and,  be 
fore  poor  Will  was  free,  the  brute  had  plunged  with  the  fish 
into  the  river. 

"  Miss  Inez,"  said  he,  as  in  the  evening  they  sat  in  the 
gallery,  and  he  told  this  story,  "  I  never  despaired  till  then. 
But  my  head  was  swimming.  The  beast  looked  like  the  very 
Devil  himself.  I  lay  back  on  the  ground,  and  I  said,  'Then  I 
will  die.'  And,  will  you  believe  me  ?  I  fell  asleep. 


346  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

"  I  woke  up,  —  I  do  not  know  how  soon.  Bat,  as  I  woke, 
my  one  thought  was  of  sitting  and  bobbing  there.  What  had 
I  seen  when  I  was  bobbing  ?  Had  not  I  seen  a  log  cut  with 
an  axe  ?  Why  did  I  not  think  of  that  before  ?  Because  I 
could  only  think  of  my  bait  and  my  line.  Was  it  cut  by  an 
axe  ?  I  went  back  to  the  stream.  It  was  cut  by  an  axe.  It 
was  an  old  dug-out, — a  Frenchman's  pirogue,  bottom  up. 
How  quick  I  turned  it  over !  Where  it  came  into  that  bayou, 
it  could  go  out.  I  laid  into  it  my  precious  line  and  cutting- 
stone.  I  broke  me  off  sticks  for  fending-poles.  I  was  strong 
as  a  lion  now.  I  bushwhacked  here,  I  poled  there,  I  pad 
dled  there.  In  an  hour  I  was  free ;  and  then  the  sun  was 
so  hot  above  me,  that  I  fainted  away  in  the  bottom  of  the 
canoe." 

"  You  poor,  poor  child !  "  sobbed  the  sympathizing  Inez. 

"  And,  the  next  I  knew,  it  was  evening,  and  an  old  French 
man  held  me  in  his  arms,  at  the  shore,  and  was  pouring  milk 
down  my  throat  in  spoonfuls.  Weak  as  I  was,  I  clutched  his 
pail,  and  he  thought  I  should  have  drunk  myself  to  death. 
He  did  not  clap  me  in  irons,  though  I  did  come  from  above." 


OR.   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  347 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

IN   PRISON,    AND   YE   VISITED   MEi 

"  Curse  on  the  unpardoning  prince,  whom  tears  cai  draw 
To  no  remorse,  who  rules  by  lions'  law, 
And  deaf  to  prayers,  by  no  submission  bowed, 
Rends  all  alike,  the  penitent  and  proud." 

Palamot  and  Arcite. 

BUT  Miss  Inez  and  Master  William  did  net  spend  that 
morning  in  telling  or  in  hearing  this  tale.  It  is  from  long 
narratives,  told  in  more  quiet  times,  that  we  have  condensed 
it  for  the  reader. 

No.     They  had  other  affairs  in  hand. 

Inez  had  been  diligently  at  work  preparing  her  costume  for 
the  day,  before  Antoine  had  summoned  her  to  breakfast. 
Chloe  had  been  as  diligently  at  work  in  the  laundry,  while 
breakfast  went  on. 

While  Harrod  made  his  toilet,  —  a  matter  of  no  little  diffi 
culty,  —  Inez  made  hers. 

At  last  he  came  down-stairs,  shaven  and  shorn,  washed  and 
brushed,  elegantly  dressed,  with  a  ruffled  shirt,  an  embroid 
ered  waistcoat,  and  a  blue  coat ;  dressed,  in  short,  in  the 
costume  of  civilized  Europe  or  America,  as  he  had  not  been 
dressed  for  two  years. 

He  went  through  the  hall,  and  from  room  to  room  of  the 
large  parlors  down-stairs,  but  saw  Inez  nowhere.  In  the 
front  parlor  was  a  little  sister  of  charity,  who  seemed  absorbed 
in  a  book  of  devotions.  Harrod  touched  his  hat,  and  asked 
if  he  could  see  Miss  Perry ;  to  which  the  sister,  without  so 


34**  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

much  as  raising  her  modest  eyes  to  the  handsome  Ke  atuck 
ian,  only  replied,  " Pas  encore" 

Harrod  struck  the  bell  which  stood  in  the  hull,  and  sum 
moned  Antoine.  The  respectful  servant  wondered  if  he  had 
left  the  garden  gate  open,  but  did  not  distress  himself.  Har 
rod  bade  him  call  his  mistress.  Antoine  thought  she  was  in 
the  parlor,  but,  as  he  looked  in,  saw  no  one  but  the  sister  of 
charity.  She  asked  him  also  if  he  would  summon  his  mis 
tress.  Antoine  said  he  did  not  know  where  she  was,  but  he 
would  try. 

The  minute  he  was  well  out  of  the  hall,  the  sister  of  charity 
hopped  up,  and  executed  a  pirouette,  to  Harrod's  amazement, 
clapped  her  hands,  and  ran  across  the  room  to  him.  "  So, 
sir,  I  knew  you  after  two  years'  parting,  and  you  did  not  know 
me  after  an  hour's  !  That  shows  who  understands  masquer 
ading  best." 

"  Who  would  know  you,  with  that  ridiculous  handkerchief 
tied  round  your  mouth  and  nose,  and  those  devout  eyes  cast 
down  on  your  prayer-book  ?  At  the  least,  you  cannot  say  my 
disguise  covered  me." 

"  Indeed,"  said  Inez,  laughing,  "  that  was  its  weakest 
side." 

And  she  proceeded  to  explain  her  plans  for  the  day.  She 
was  going  to  the  prison  to  see  old  Ransom.  Her  father  was 
out  of  the  question.  But  an  interview  with  Ransom  could 
be  gained,  she  thought ;  for  she  believed,  as  it  proved  rightly, 
that  no  such  calendar  of  sisters  was  kept  at  the  prison  gate, 
that  the  warders  would  know  of  a  certain  new-comer,  wheth 
er  she  were  or  were  not  en  regie.  Of  her  own  costume  Inez 
had  no  doubt  whatever. 

And  so  they  parted,  —  Inez  for  this  duty,  Harrod  to  see 
the  American  consul,  Mr.  Pollock,  Mr.  Bingaman,  and  the 
other  Americans,  and  to  determine  what  should  be  done  in 
this  rudest  violation  yet  of  the  rights  of  the  American  resi 
dents  in  Orleans. 

At  the  Palace  of  Justice  —  if  it  may  be  so  called  —  Inez 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  349 

had  e\en  less  difficulty  than  she  had  apprehended.  The  place 
was  not  strictly  a  prison.  That  is,  the  upper  stories  were 
used  for  the  various  purposes  of  business  of  the  fussy  admin 
istration  of  the  little  colony ;  and,  below,  a  dozen  large  cells 
and  a  certain  central  hall  had  been  by  long  usage  set  apart 
as  places  of  confinement,  barred  and  bolted,  for  prisoners 
awaiting  trial,  and  for  anybody  else,  indeed,  who,  for  what 
ever  reason,  was  not  to  be  sent  to  the  prison  proper. 

To  the  sentinel  on  duty  at  the  door,  Inez  simply  said,  — 

"  You  have  a  sick  man  here." 

"  Two,  my  lady.  Will  my  lady  tell  me  the  name  of  the 
sinner  she  seeks  ?  " 

"  If  there  be  two,"  said  Inez,  speaking  in  Spanish,  with 
which  the  French  sentinel  was  not  so  familiar,  "  I  will  see 
them  both  ; "  and,  acknowledging  his  courtesy  as  he  passed, 
she  entered  into  the  general  prison,  where  nine  or  ten  poor 
dogs  sat,  lay,  or  paced  uneasily.  Among  them  she  instantly 
saw  Ransom,  sitting  handcuffed  on  a  chest. 

He  did  not  recognize  her,  and  she  affected  not  to  see  him ; 
but  she  passed  close  to  him,  and  said  quite  aloud  in  English, 
"  Ransom,  take  care  that  you  are  very  sick  when  I  come 
to-morrow."  Then  she  passed  on  into  the  side  cell,  which 
had  been  opened  at  her  direction.  The  particular  Juan  or 
Manuel  who  was  lying  there  had  not  expected  her ;  but  he 
was  none  the  worse  for  the  guava-jelly  she  left  him,  nor  that 
she  sponged  his  hands  and  face  from  the  contents  of  the 
generous  canteen  she  bore.  She  read  to  him  a  few  simple 
prayers,  visited  the  other  invalid  in  the  same  fashion,  and 
was  gone. 

The  next  day,  however,  Inez  had  three  patients.  She  had 
soon  disposed  of  those  whom  she  saw  the  day  before,  and 
then  found  herself,  as  she  had  intended,  alone  with  Ransom, 
who  lay  on  the  shelf  in  his  cell  with  a  few  leaves  and  stems 
of  the  sugar-cane  under  him. 

Ransom  explained,  that  on  the  day  he  was  missed,  having 
oeen  lured  away,  just  as  he  left  the  brig,  into  a  nar^w  street 


350  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

tvhere  none  "but  them  Greasers  "  lived,  —  as  he  -was  talking 
with  the  man  who  had  summoned  him,  he  was  caught  from 
behind,  his  arms  pinioned  behind  him,  he  tripped  up,  steel 
cuffs  locked  upon  his  feet,  and  in  this  guise  was  carried  by 
four  men  into  a  neighboring  baraca.  As  soon  as  night  fell, 
his  captors  brought  him  to  the  Government  House.  They 
had  since  had  him  under  examination  there  three  times. 
They  had  questioned  him  about  Nolan  and  Harrod,  about 
Mr.  Perry  and  Roland,  about  Lonsdale  and  the  "  Firefly," 
and  about  Gen.  Bowles.  They  had  asked  about  the  message 
sent  up  the  river  by  Mr.  Perry  the  previous  spring.  But 
specially  they  had  questioned  him  about  the  Lodge  of  Free- 
Masons,  to  find  whether  Mr.  Perry,  Mr.  Roland,  or  Mr. 
Lonsdale  belonged  to  it;  and  about  what  Ransom  knew, 
and  what  he  did  not  know,  of  the  movements  of  one  Sopper, 
an  American,  whom  the  authorities  suspected  of  raising  a 
plot  among  the  slaves. 

Now,  the  truth  was  that  Ransom  knew  Sopper  very  well 
He  probably  knew  Ransom  better  than  he  did  any  other 
person  in  Orleans,  where  the  man  was,  indeed,  a  stranger. 

"  They'd  seen  me  with  him,  Miss  Inez.  He's  a  poor 
critter ;  hain't  got  no  friends,  any  way,  'n  I  wanted  to  keep 
him  out  o'  mischief.  He's  one  of  them  Ipswich  Soppers,  — 
no,  he  ain't :  he  came  from  Sacarap,  —  they  was  a  poor  set ; 
but  they  did  zwel  as  they  knew  how.  They'd  seen  me  with 
him,  so  I  knew  they  was  no  use  of  lyin'  about  it,  'n  I  told 
'em  I  knew  him,  cos  I  did." 

"  Ransom,  there  is  never  any  use  of  lying,"  said  poor  Inez, 
doing  something  to  keep  up  her  character. 

But  it  was  clear  that  Ransom's  examination  had  been  of 
that  sort  which  did  nobody  any  good,  and  him  least  good  of 
all.  Inez  could  see,  as  he  detailed  it,  that  he  had  made  the 
authorities  suspect  him  more  than  ever ;  and,  from  the  tenor 
of  the  last  examination,  she  saw  that  the  authorities  thought 
that  he  was  an  accomplice  in  the  negro  plot,  regarding  which 
they  were  most  sensitive. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  351 

"  Tain't  no  account,  mum,  any  way,  now  Mr.  Perry  knows 
I'm  here  :  he'll  go  to  the  guvner,  and  the  guvner  '11  have  to 
let  me  out.  Didn't  have  no  way  to  send  ye  word,  or  I'd  'a' 
sent  before." 

Then  Inez  told  him  that  her  father  had  been  seized  also. 

The  poor  old  man  started  from  his  bed,  and  could  hardly 
be  kept  from  rushing  to  the  rescue. 

In  one  instant  he  saw  the  position ;  and  in  the  same 
instant  his  whole  countenance  changed,  and  his  easy  courage 
fell. 

Often  as  he  had  thwarted  Silas  Perry,  and  often  as  he  had 
disobeyed  him,  in  his  heart  he  was  a  faithful  vassal,  and 
nothing  else.  He  would  have  "  died  with  rapture  if  he  saved 
his  king ; "  but  when  that  king  was  checkmated  his  truncheon 
fell  at  once. 

Inez  went  farther,  and  said  her  fear  was  that  they  would 
both  be  sent  to  Cuba  for  trial. 

"  No,  Miss  Inez :  ef  your  father's  in  prison,  they  ain't  no 
more  trial  for  me.  Tried  me  three  times  a'ready,  and  I  give 
em  a  bit  o'  my  mind  each  time.  No.  They's  done  with 
me."  And  he  sank  into  silence. 

Inez  broke  it  with  a  consolation  she  did  not  feel. 

"Keep  up  good  spirits,  clear  Ransom,"  she  said.  "We 
are  all  at  work  for  you.  Mr.  Harrod  has  come  home,  and  he 
is  at  work,  and  Mr.  Bingaman  and  the  consul.  Aunt  Eunice 
got  home  last  night,  and  she  will  work  for  you.  Mr.  Lonsdale 
will  work.  We  shall  never  let  you  come  to  harm." 

The  old  man  sat  silent  for  a  moment  more.  Then  he  said 
calmly,  "  No,  mum,  they's  done  with  me.  Bingaman's  no 
account,  never  was,  unless  he  had  Mr.  Perry  to  tell  him  what 
to  do.  Ain't  none  on  'em  knows  what  to  do,  ef  Mr.  Perry 
don't  tell  'em.  Capt.  Harrod,  he's  a  gentleman  ;  but  they 
don't  none  on  'em  know  him  here.  No,  mum,  they's  done 
with  me."  And  he  made  another  long  pause.  "  They'll  send 
ye  father  to  Cuby,  and  they'll  hang  me.  They'll  hang  me 
down  by  the  arsenal,  —  jest  where  they  hanged  them  French- 


352  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS: 

men.  It's  just  like  'em  ;  'n  I  told  'em  so,  I  did.  Says  I,  'you 
hanged  them  Frenchmen,  and  you  know  you've  been  all 
wrong'  ever  since  ye  did  it,'  says  I.  But  they  didn't  hang  'em 
theyselves :  they  didn't  dare  to.  Darned  ef  they  could  get  a 
white  man  in  all  Orleans  to  hang  'em.  Cum  to  the  '  Hing- 
ham  Gal,'  —  she  was  lyin'  here  then,  —  'n  there  was  a  poor 
foolish  critter  in  her,  named  Prime,  'n  they  offered  him 
twenty  doubloons  to  hang  'em  ;  'n  he  says,  says  he,  '  I'm  a 
fool,'  says  he,  and  he  was  a  fool,  'but  I  ain't  so  big  a  fool,' 
says  he,  '  as  you  think  I  be,'  says  he  ;  'n  they  had  to  get  a 
nigger  to  hang  'em,  cos  no  white  man  would  stand  by  'em. 
That's  what  they'll  do  with  me,"  said  poor  old  Ransom. 

In  speaking  thus,  Ransom  was  alluding  to  O'Reilly's 
horrible  vengeance  upon  the  Creole  gentlemen  who  had 
engaged  in  a  plot  to  throw  off  the  Spanish  rule  more  than 
twenty  years  before. 

"  Ransom,"  said  the  girl,  sobbing  her  heart  out,  "  if  they 
hang  you  they  will  hang  me  too."  Then  she  promised  him 
that  she  would  return  on  Sunday,  bade  him  be  sure  he  was 
sick  in  bed  at  noon,  and  with  a  faint  heart  found  her  way 
home. 

She  would  have  attempted  more  definite  words  of  consola 
tion  if  she  had  had  them  to  offer.  But  Harrod's  report  of 
yesterday  had  not  been  encouraging.  The  consular  clerk 
had  been  roused  to  some  interest,  but  to  no  resource.  The 
embargo  had  been  proclaimed.  That  had  confirmed  Inez's 
news,  and  had  awakened  all  the  merchants.  Harrod  had 
made  him,  the  clerk,  promise  to  call  on  the  governor  with 
him  at  one  o'clock.  By  way  of  preparing  for  that  interview, 
he  made  one  or  two  visits  among  English  and  American 
merchants,  when  suddenly,  to  his  disgust,  he  found  himself 
evidently  watched  by  a  tall  man  of  military  aspect,  though 
not  in  uniform.  Harrod  was  close  by  the  Government  House. 
He  determined,  at  least,  to  strike  high  and  to  die  game. 
He  would  not  be  jugged  without  one  interview  with  the 
governor  in  person. 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  -553 

He  entered  the  house,  —  went  by  as  many  sentinels  as  he 
could,  by  what  is  always  a  good  rule,  pretending  to  bt  quite 
at  home,  giving  a  simple  hasty  salute  to  the  sentries,  —  and 
so  came  to  the  governor's  door,  as  he  had  been  directed. 
Here  he  had  to  send  in  his  card ;  but  he  was  immediately 
admitted. 

He  explained  that  he  had  expected  to  be  joined  by  the 
American  consul.  His  message,  however,  was  important, 
and  he  would  not  wait. 

"  And  what  is  your  honor's  business  ? "  said  the  courtly 
governor. 

"  It  is  to  ask  on  what  ground  Mr.  Silas  Perry  is  held 
in  confinement,  and  to  claim  his  release  as  an  American 
citizen." 

"  Don  Silas  Perry  in  confinement !  "  said  the  governor 
with  a  start  of  surprise,  which  was  not  at  all  acted.  He  was 
surprised  that  this  Mr.  Harrod  should  have  come  at  his 
secret.  "  Where  is  he  in  confinement  ?  " 

"  No  one  knows  better  than  your  excellency,"  said  Harrod, 
who  noted  his  advantage  :  "  he  is  imprisoned  under  this  roof. 
Your  excellency  can  show  me  to  his  apartments,  unless 
your  excellency  wishes  me  to  take  your  excellency  there." 

This  was  a  word  too  much,  and  probably  did  not  help 
Master  William.  It  gave  his  excellency  time  to  rally,  and  to 
ask  himself  who  this  brown,  well-dressed  man  of  action  and 
of  affairs  might  be. 

"  You  have  sent  me  your  card,"  said  he :  "  you  have  not 
explained  to  me  who  has  honored  me  by  introducing  you,  nor 
do  I  understand  that  you  represent  the  American  consul.  I 
think,  indeed,  that  the  American  consul  is  not  in  the  city, 
that  he  is  at  the  Balize." 

"  Your  excellency  does  not  wish  to  stand  upon  punctilio," 
said  Harrod.  "  The  consul's  clerk  will  be  here  in  five  min 
utes.  The  American  consul  will  be  here  to-night.  It  is  in 
the  name  of  the  Americans  of  the  city  that  I  speak." 

The  governor  looked  his   contempt.     "  His   Majesty  the 


554  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRtENDS  ; 

King  of  Spain  has  given  these  gentlemen  permission  to 
reside  here  to  attend  to  an  unfortunate  commerce,  all  but 
contraband,  which  will  end  in  a  few  months  at  latest;  but 
his  Majesty  has  never  been  informed,  till  this  moment, 
that  these  gentlemen  expected  him  to  consult  them  in  the 
administration  of  justice."  Then,  as  if  he  were  weary  of  the 
interview,  he  turned  to  a  servant  who  gave  him  a  card,  and, 
as  if  to  dismiss  Harrod,  said,  "  Show  this  gentleman  in." 

To  Harrod's  dismay,  the  military  man  entered,  who  had 
tracked  him  in  the  street. 

He  thought  that  his  game  was  up,  and  that  he  was  to  be 
put  into  the  room  next  to  Mr.  Perry's.  But  he  had  no  dispo 
sition  to  surrender  a  moment  before  his  time  came.  With 
out  noticing  hint  or  stranger,  he  said,  — 

"  If  your  excellency  despises  the  Americans  here,  you  may 
have  more  regard  for  the  Americans  at  home.  Your  excel 
lency  has  the  name  of  a  friend  of  peace.  Your  minister  at 
home  is  called  the  Prince  of  Peace.  Your  excellency  has 
simply  to  consider,  that,  if  Mr.  Silas  Perry  and  Mr.  Seth  Ran 
som  are  not  free  to-morrow  night,  a  courier  will  carry  that 
news  to  the  Tennessee  River  in  ten  days,  to  Kentucky  in  five 
more.  Let  it  once  be  known  that  two  American  citizens 
have  been  sent  to  Cuba,  and  ten  thousand  riflemen  from 
Kentucky  and  Tennessee  will  muster  at  their  ports  to  avenge 
them.  The  boats  are  there,  as  your  excellency  knows ;  the 
river  is  rising,  as  your  excellency  knows.  Whether  the 
'  Prince  of  Peace '  will  thank  you  for  what  your  excellency 
brings  down  hither  upon  the  river,  your  excellency  knows 
also."  And  William  Harrod  rose.  "  I  see  your  excellency 
is  engaged.  I  will  find  the  vice-consul,  and  will  return  with 
him." 

"  Stay  a  moment,"  said  the  military  gentleman,  "  stay  a 
moment,  sir.  Do  I  understand  that  Mr.  Perry  is  in  confine 
ment  ? " 

"  He  is  under  lock  and  bar  in  this  house,  sir,"  said  Har 
rod  fiercely. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPOA'7*S.  '  355 

"  And  for  what  crime  ?  "  said  the  stranger. 

"  For  no  crime  under  the  heavens  of  God,"  said  Harrod, 
now  very  angry,  "  for  no  crime,  as  you  would  say  if  you 
knew  him.  You  must  ask  his  excellency  on  what  accusa 
tion." 

''I  will  take  the  liberty  to  ask  his  excellency  that  ques 
tion,"  said  the  other.  "  Mr.  Perry  is  my  near  friend,"  he 
added,  turning  to  the  governor ;  "  he  is  the  near  friend  of 
the  King  of  England,  to  whom  he  has  rendered  distinguished 
services.  I  know  your  excellency  too  well  to  think,  that,  at 
this  critical  juncture,  your  excellency  would  willingly  thwart 
the  government  I  represent,  by  the  arrest  of  a  person  whose 
services,  I  had  almost  said,  we  require." 

The  picture  was  a  striking  one,  as  these  two  fine  young 
men  stood,  the  one  on  each  side  of  the  governor,  who  was 
himself  to  the  last  degree  annoyed,  that  by  his  own  blunder 
he  had  lost  the  one  great  advantage  in  Spanish  statecraft,  the 
advantage  of  dealing  with  each  alone. 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Lonsdale,"  he  said,  giving  to  the  English 
diplomatist  his  hand,  "  if  you  will  do  me  the  favor  to  dine 
with  me,  I  can  explain  perhaps  what  you  do  not  understand. 
If  our  young  friend  here,  the  ambassador  from  Kentucky, 
will  meanwhile  study  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
he  will  understand  perhaps  that  I  cannot  treat  with  envoys 
from  separate  States.  —  Good-morning,  sir :  "  this  sharply  to 
Harrod.  "  If  you  will  take  an  early  lunch  with  us,  it  is  wait 
ing  now  :  "  this  courteously  to  Lonsdale. 

"  I  am  greatly  obliged,"  said  Lonsdale  coolly.  "  I  have 
business  with  this  gentleman.  I  will  do  myself  the  honor  of 
calling  again."  And,  with  hauteur  quite  equal  to  what  might 
75  expected  from  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  he  withdiew. 


356  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS: 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

FACE   TO   FACE. 

"  A  brave  heart  bids  the  midnight  shine  like  day, 
Friendship  dares  all  things,  when  love  shows  the  way." 

Andromaque. 

As  they  left  the  Government  House,  Harrod  hastily  ex 
plained  to  Lonsdale  who  he  was,  and  told  what  he  himself 
knew  of  the  passages  of  these  dark  days,  and  why  he  knew 
so  little.  Lonsdale  explained  who  he  was, — that  he  had  but 
just  landed  from  his  own  galliot,  in  which  he  had  brought 
Miss  Perry,  and  the  old  lady  whom  Miss  Perry  had  gone  to 
Natchez  to  find.  But  they  had  left  Natchez  before  any  bad 
news,  even  of  Ransom's  disappearance,  had  arrived  there ; 
and  the  first  intelligence  Mr.  Lonsdale  had  had  of  either 
calamity  was  in  the  words  he  had  heard  William  Harrod  use 
at  the  governor's. 

He  had  parted  from  Miss  Perry  only  at  the  landing,  having 
promised  to  join  her  again  at  her  own  house  within  an  hour. 
He  was  therefore  sure  that  up  till  her  arrival  at  home  she 
had  had  no  intimation  of  the  wretched  news. 
.  Harrod  was  quick  enough  to  observe  that  in  his  language 
there  was  a  certain  air  of  authority,  as  if  he  had  a  right  to 
protect  Miss  Perry,  and  to  be  consulted  intimately  in  her 
affairs.  For  this,  Harrod  had  not  been  prepared  by  Inez's 
Curried  narrative.  Inez  had  spoken  of  Mr.  Lonsdale  as  the 
English  gentleman  whose  escort  they  had  received  in  coming 
from  Texas ;  but  she  had  scarcely  alluded  to  him  again. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  357 

The  two  went  hastily  to  Mr.  Perry's  house,  filling  up,  as 
each  best  could,  the  immense  gaps  in  the  information  which 
each  had,  as  to  these  matters  in  which  each  had  personal 
reasons  for  intense  interest.  Let  them  do  their  best,  however, 
there  were  large  chasms  unfilled.  For  what  reason  was  Mr. 
Perry  arrested  ?  For  what,  poor  Ransom  ?  What  new  motive 
could  they  now  bring  to  bear  ?  And  should  William  HarroJ 
not  make  good  his  threat  of  sending  a  courier  through  Gen. 
Bowles's  country  into  Tennessee  and  Kentucky  ? 

Inez  was  away  on  her  first  visit  to  the  prison  when  the 
young  men  arrived.  They  found  Eunice  in  all  the  agony  of 
surprise,  anger,  and  doubt,  having  received,  from  the  very 
incompetent  lips  of  Antoine  and  Chloe,  such  broken  account 
as  they  could  give  of  the  little  which  Miss  Inez  had  chosen 
to  intrust  to  them.  Eunice  was  writing  to  the  consul  as  they 
entered.  By  her  side  was  the  lovely  white-haired  Mother 
Ann,  who  had  come  so  gladly  with  Eunice,  certain  that  she 
should  find  her  lost  grandchild,  and  who  now  found  herself 
in  the  midst  of  another  tragedy  so  strange.  The  beautiful 
old  lady  had  not  learned  the  lessons  of  sixty  years  in  vain. 
Her  face  had  the  lovely  saint-like  expression  of  the  true 
saint,  who  had  never  shirked  life  in  a  convent,  but  who  had 
taken  it  in  its  rough-and-tumble,  and  had  come  off  conqueror 
and  more  than  conqueror. 

"Never  mind  me,  dear  Eunice,"  she  said,  in  her  half- 
Quaker  way :  "  let  us  do  what  we  may  for  thy  brother  first, 
and  for  this  brave  old  fellow  who  loves  my  dear  girl  so. 
What  is  a  few  hours  to  me,  now  I  am  so  safe,  so  sure,  and  so 
happy?" 

Upon  their  rapid  consultations  Inez  came  in,  still  in  the 
sister's  costume.  She  flung  herself  into  Eunice's  arms,  and 
sobbed  out  her  grief.  A  common  cause  gave  frankness  and 
cordiality  to  her  welcome  of  Lonsdale  such  as  she  had  never 
honored  him  with  before.  Then  came  rapid  conferences, 
and  eager  mutual  information.  Inez  could  tell,  and  Harrod 
could  tell,  to  this  group,  what  had  not  been  revealed  to 


35$  PHILIP  NOLAX'S  FR1EXDS, 

\ntoine  and  to  Chloe  of  Ma-ry's  information.  Harrod  and 
Lonsdale  had  to  tell  of  the  governor's  coldness,  and  the 
dead-lock  they  were  at  there.  But  both  of  them  agreed  that 
they  must  go  at  once  to  the  American  consulate  to  report ; 
and  Lonsdale  said,  very  simply,  that  he  could  and  would 
bring  in  all  the  intercession  of  Mr.  Hutchings,  the  English 
consul.  Such  an  outrage  made  a  common  cause. 

"  And  we  and  this  dear,  dear,  dear  lady,  will  go,  —  we  can 
go  on  foot,  dear  aunt,  •—  and  liberate  my  darling  from  the  con 
vent."  This  was  Inez's  exclamation,  and  then  she  stopped. 
"  But  what  a  blessing  that  she  was  not  liberated  before  ! 
Where  should  we  be  now,  but  for  the  White  Hawk  ? " 

Then  they  all  turned  to  Harrod  and  to  Lonsdale,  to  make 
sure  that  they  should  not  want  her  at  the  convent  still.  But 
it  was  agreed,  that  they  now  had,  in  all  probability,  all  the 
information  that  Ma-ry  could  give.  The  chances  were  vastly 
against  their  gaining  more. 

"  I  must  have  the  dear  child  here,"  said  Eunice  promptly. 

"  Thank  God  you  say  that !  "  said  Inez. 

And,  so  soon  as  she  could  transform  herself  into  Miss 
Inez  Perry,  they  were  all  three  on  their  way. 

It  was  not  the  regulation  day  for  seeing  visitors  ;  there  had 
been  no  chance  to  consult  the  pope  or  the  vicar-general ; 
and  St.  Ursula  had  not  provided  in  her  last  will  for  any  such 
exigency.  But  Eunice  was  so  forceful  in  her  quietness,  and 
dear  "  Mother  Ann  "  was  so  eager  in  her  quietness,  for  she 
did  not  say  one  word,  that  even  Sister  Barbara  gave  way ; 
and  Inez  was  obliged  to  own  to  herself,  that  even  she  could 
not  have  improved  on  the  method  of  the  negotiation.  Sister 
Barbara  disappeared.  She  was  not  gone  long.  She  came 
back  with  the  White  Hawk,  to  whom  she  had  said  nothing  of 
her  visitor:;. 

The  moment  the  pretty  creature  entered  the  room,  the 
quiet,  lovely  grandmother  sprang  across  like  a  girl,  and  flung 
her  .arms  around  her,  and  kissed  her  again  and  again.  "  My 
•dear,  dear,  dear  child !  "  This  was  all  she  could  say.  The 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  359 

girl's  likeness  to  her  murdered  mother  was  enough  for  the 
other  mother  who  had  brooded  over  her  loss  so  long. 

And  Ma-ry,  dear  child,  kissed  her,  and  soothed  her,  and 
stoked  her  beautiful  white  hair,  and  said  little  loving  words 
tc  he;,  now  as  a  child  might  do,  just  learning  to  speak,  now 
as  a  woman  of  long  experience  might  do.  How  much  these 
two  would  have  to  tell  each  other,  and  to  learn  from  each 
other  !  And  the  first  meeting  was  all  that  the  eager  heart  of 
either  could  demand. 

"  Dear,  dear,  dear  grandmamma,"  for  the  child  had  been 
teaching  herself  this  word  in  anticipation.  "Was  she  not 
very  lovely  ?  " 

"  My  darling,  she  was  very  lovely.  You  are  her  image, 
my  child.  I  knew  you  were  named  Mary.  My  sister  was 
named  Mary,  and  you  are  named  for  her.  I  have  here,"  and 
she  pointed  to  her  heart,  "your  dear,  dear  mother's  last 
letter.  She  says  she  had  named  you  '  Mary,'  and  she  says 
you  were  the  only  baby  in  the  settlement,  and  the  pet  of 
them  all.  And  I  was  to  come  and  help  take  care  of  you 
when  you  were  a  baby  ;  and  now  at  last  I  have  come." 

Sister  Barbara  was  as  much  affected  as  the  others.  She 
agreed  with  Miss  Eunice,  that  it  was  not  probable  that 
Ma-ry's  studies  would  flourish  much  under  the  stimulus  of 
this  new  element  in  her  life.  And  it  was  also  so  improbable 
that  any  similar  case  had  transpired  in  the  eleven  thousand 
experiences  of  the  eleven  thousand  virgins,  that  their  memoirs 
were  not  even  consulted  for  a  precedent;  and  failing  the 
vicar-general  and  the  pope,  as  above,  Sister  Barbara  con 
sented  that  the  White  Hawk  should  go  home  with  the  visit 
ors,  and  stay  till  next  week.  Alas,  for  Sister  Barbara ! 
"  to-morrow  never  comes,"  and  "  next  week  "  never  came  for 
this  return  to  study. 

Ma-ry,  meanwhile,  signalled  to  Inez,  to  ask  whether  she 
might  not  be  needed  on  the  house-top  the  next  morning. 
Things  might  be  mentioned  in  the  house  which  needed  to  be 
published  there.  But  Inez  re-assured  the  loyal  girl ;  and  in 


360  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

five  minutes  more  her  little  packet  was  ready,  and  she  kissed 
Sister  Barbara  "  good-by,"  forever,  —  as  it  proved. 

"  But  the  little  dog,  ma'm'selle, — the  little  dog.  He  will 
be  wretched  without  you,  and  you  will  be  wretched  without 
him." 

With  the  gravity  of  a  bishop,  and  with  a  penitent's  con 
science  smiting  her,  Ma-ry  explained  that  she  had  not  seen 
the  little  dog  since  yesterday.  And  Inez  hastened  to  add 
that  he  was  safe  at  home.  And  so,  with  some  jest  on  the 
dog's  preferring  the  fare  at  one  house  to  that  of  the  other, 
they  parted.  And  thus,  to  use  the  common  phrase  which 
Miss  Edgeworth  so  properly  condemns,  Miss  Ma-ry's  "  educa 
tion  was  finished." 

They  met  the  gentlemen  at  dinner.  Antoine  and  Felix 
were  tolerated  as  long  as  might  be ;  and,  for  so  long  time,  the 
talk  was  of  Harrod's  experience,  of  Lonsdale's  trials,  of  Mrs. 
Willson's  wanderings,  and  of  Ma-ry's  recollections.  But,  as 
soon  as  these  two  worthies  could  be  dismissed,  serious  con 
sultations  began  again. 

The  two  consuls  had  had  as  little  success  as  the  unofficial 
gentlemen  had  had.  Indeed,  they  had  anticipated  no  suc 
cess.  Arbitrary  as  the  Spanish  rule  always  was,  it  had  till 
lately  been  sensible  and  mild  until  Salcedo,  to  whom,  rightly 
or  not,  Harrod  ascribed  the  change  of  policy  which  had 
swept  even  De  Nava  away,  and  whom  Harrod  made  respon 
sible  for  Nolan's  murder.  Under  Salcedo,  the  rule  had  been 
abrupt,  tyrannical,  and  inexplicable. 

"  You  would  think,"  said  Lonsdale,  "  that  the  approaching 
cession  to  the  French  prefect  would  make  the  Spaniards 
more  tolerant  and  gentle.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  they  seem 
to  want  to  cling  to  power  to  the  last,  and  to  show  that  Laus- 
sat  is  nobody.  Laussat  is  a  fool,  so  our  consul  thinks,  —  a 
fussy,  pretentious  fool.  He  came  here  as  prefect,  with  great 
notions,  with  great  talk  of  the  army  behind  him  ;  and  he  has 
not  yet  so  much  as  a  corporal's  guard  for  his  ceremonies. 
The  Spaniards  make  fun  of  him ;  and  even  the  Frenchmen 
cannot  make  much  else  of  him. 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  36 i 

"  Yes :  if  he  were  not  here,  we  should  fare  better.  From 
this  double-headed  government,  it  is  hard  to  know  what  we 
may  look  for.  One  thing  is  fortunate,"  he  added  dryly:  "we 
have  three  or  four  frigates  and  their  tenders,  within  a  day  of 
the  Balize.  I  have  bidden  Hutchings  send  down  word  that 
they  are  to  be  off  the  Pass  till  they  have  other  orders." 

Eunice  only  looked  her  gratitude  ;  but  she  certainly 
blushed  crimson.  Inez  was  forced  to  say,  "  How  good  you 
are !  "  But  this  time  she  was  frightened.  Even  she  did  not 
dare  to  say,  "  Who  are  you  ? " 

But  who  was  he?  Who  was  this  man  who  said  to  the 
English  fleet,  "Sail  here,"  or  "Sail  there,"  and  it  obeyed  him  ? 
And  why  did  Aunt  Eunice  blush?  What  had  they  been 
doing  and  saying  at  Natchez,  and  in  this  six-days'  voyage 
down  the  river  ?  Was  Aunt  Eunice  to  be  Duchess  of  Clar 
ence,  after  all  ? 

The  truth  was,  that  Mr.  Lonsdale  and  Aunt  Eunice  had 
come  at  each  other  very  thoroughly.  First,  their  correspond 
ence  had  helped  to  this ;  for  nothing  teaches  two  people  who 
have  been  much  together,  how  much  they  rest  on  each  other, 
as  an  occasional  separation,  with  its  eager  yearning  for  mes 
sages  or  letters.  Horace  Lonsdale  needed  no  teaching  on 
this  matter.  Eunice  was  perhaps  surprised  when  she  found 
how  lonely  a  summer  was,  in  which  she  did  not  see  him  as 
often  as  once  a  week.  After  this  parting,  had  come  the 
renewed  intimacy  at  Natchez ;  and,  from  the  first,  they  found 
themselves  on  a  personal  footing  different  from  that  of  the 
spring.  She  had  found  him  the  loyal  and  chivalrous  English 
gentleman  which,  indeed,  he  had  shown  himself  from  the  first 
moment  that  she  had  known  him.  He  had  found  her  always 
the  same  unselfish  woman  she  was  then  and  there.  It  had 
been  hard  for  him  to  come  at  her,  to  give  to  her  th«;  whole 
certainty  of  his  enthusiastic  admiration  ;  because  Eunice 
Perry  was  quite  out  of  the  fashion  of  asking  herself  what 
people  thought  of  her,  or,  indeed,  of  believing  tha<  they 
thought  of  her  at  all.  If  the  truth  were  told,  Horace  Lons- 


362  PHILIP  NOLAWS  FRIENDS; 

dale  had  not  been  used,  in  other  circles,  to  meet  won  ten  as 
entirely  indifferent  to  his  social  position  as  was  Eunice 
Perry.  He  might,  indeed,  have  travelled  far,  before  he 
found  a  woman  so  indifferent  to  her  own  accomplishments,  so 
unconscious  of  remarkable  beauty,  and  so  willing  to  use  each 
and  every  gift  in  the  service  of  other  people,  as  she. 

To  pay  court  to  this  unconscious  vestal,  was  no  easy 
matter.  So  Horace  Lonsdale  thought.  Words  or  attentions 
which  many  a  pretty  countrywoman  of  his  would  have  wel 
comed  with  delight,  in  the  false  and  unbalanced  social  habits 
of  London  in  those  days,  passed  by  Eunice  Perry  as  if  he 
did  not  exist,  had  never  spoken  the  word,  or  offered  the 
attention.  He  found  very  soon,  that,  if  he  meant  to  render 
her  service,  it  must  be  by  serving  those  she  loved ;  and  he 
counted  himself  fortunate,  and  fortunate  he  was,  that  the 
chaotic  condition  of  the  times  in  which  they  moved  gave 
him,  once  and  again,  the  opportunity  to  do  so. 

The  absurd  stories  as  to  who  and  what  he  was  had,  of 
course,  their  share  of  foundation.  He  was  a  younger  son  of 
the  distinguished  family  whose  name  he  bore,  and  had  been 
placed  in  the  English  Foreign  Office,  when  yet  young,  for 
education  and  for  promotion.  Choosing  to  use  the  opportu 
nities  of  his  position,  in  a  time  when  every  day  furnished  the 
material  for  a  romance,  instead  of  flirting  at  Almack's  or 
riding  in  Hyde  Park,  he  had  been  intrusted  with  one  and 
another  confidential  duty,  in  which  he  had  distinguished  him 
self.  As  the  new  century  opened,  the  plots  of  Miranda  in 
Cuba  and  on  the  Spanish  Main,  the  insurrection  in  St.  Do 
mingo,  and  the  certainty  of  a  change  in  Louisiana,  made  it 
necessary  for  his  chiefs  to  seek  more  accurate  information 
than  they  had,  as  to  the  condition  of  the  Spanish  colonies. 
Such  a  man  as  Lonsdale  would  not  shrink  from  an  appoint 
ment  which  gave  him  almost  carte  blancfie  in  travelling  in 
those  regions,  then  almost  unknown  to  Europe.  His  social 
standing,  his  rank  in  the  diplomatic  service,  and  the  commis 
sion  he  was  intrusted  with,  gave  him  the  best  introductions 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  363 

everywhere.  And,  when  the  ladies  of  our  party  met  him  at 
Antonio,  he  was  in  good  faith  pursuing  the  inquiries  regard 
ing  the  power  of  Spain  which  had  been  confided  to  him. 

The  absurd  story  that  he  was  the  Duke  of  Clarence  had 
grown  up  in  some  joke  in  a  London  club ;  but  it  had  found 
its  way  to  one  and  another  English  ship  on  the  West  India 
station,  and  from  these  vessels  had  diffused  itself,  as  poor 
jokes  will,  in  the  society  of  almost  every  place  where  Lons- 
dale  made  any  stay.  In  truth,  it  was  very  absurd.  He  was 
five  years  younger  than  the  duke,  was  taller  and  handsomer. 
But  he  had  light  hair  worn  without  powder,  a  fresh  healthy 
complexion,  so  that,  as  Inez  afterward  told  him  when  she 
condescended  to  take  him  into  favor,  he  looked  so  handsome 
and  so  much  as  one  wanted  a  king's  son  to  look,  that  every 
body  took  it  for  granted  that  he  was  one.  However  that 
might  be,  the  rumor  was  someiimes  a  very  great  convenience 
to  Horace  Lonsdale,  and  someiimes  such  a  bore  and  nuisance 
as  to  arouse  all  his  rage.  He  said  himself,  that,  whatever 
else  it  did,  it  always  doubled  the  charges  on  his  tavern  bills. 

Lonsdale  had  not  let  the  favorable  opportunity  pass,  which 
his  visit  to  Natchez,  and  the  escort  he  gave  Eunice  Perry  to 
New  Orleans,  afforded  him.  He  told  her,  like  a  gentleman, 
that  her  love  and  life  were  inestimably  precious  to  him;  that 
the  parting  for  a  summer  had  taught  him  that  they  never 
could  be  parted  again.  And  Eunice,  who  for  fifteen  years 
had  let  the  admiration  of  a  hundred  men  drift  by  her  unob 
served  and  unrequited ;  who  had  quietly  put  fifty  men  on 
their  guard  that  they  should  come  no  closer,  and  had  sent 
fifty  away  sadly  who  would  not  take  her  hint,  and  pressed 
too  near,  —  Eunice  told  him  the  truth.  She  told  him  that  once 
and  again,  in  the  anxieties  of  that  summer,  she  had  caught 
herself  wishing  for  his  sympathy  and  counsel,  —  nay,  if  the 
truth  must  be  told,  for  a  cheery  tone  of  his,  or  a  cheery  look 
of  his,  before  she  had  wished  even  for  her  brother's  help,  or 
for  Inez's  love  ;  and,  when  she  said  this  to  Horace  Lonsdale, 
Horace  Lonsdale  was  made  perfectly  happy. 


364  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

But  all  this  narrative,  so  uninteresting  to  the  young  readei 
of  seventeen,  who  seeks  in  these  pages  only  the  history  of 
her  country,  does  but  interrupt  the  story  of  the  fate  of  Silas 
Perry  and  Seth  Ransom. 

The  formal  interview  with  the  Spanish  governor,  and  with 
Laussat  the  French  prefect,  took  place  the  next  morning 
after  Lonsdale  and  Miss  Perry  came  down  the  river.  Only 
these  two  officers  with  their  secretaries,  and  the  fussy  young 
Salcedo  in  a  very  brilliant  uniform,  were  present  to  repre 
sent  the  French  and  Spanish  Governments  :  to  represent  the 
insulted  merchants,  only  the  English  and  American  consuls, 
with  Mr.  Lonsdale  and  William  Harrod,  were  admitted. 

And,  oh  the  horrors  of  the  red-tape  of  a  Spanish  inquiry ! 
Ransom  had  not  exaggerated  when  he  said  they  copied  what 
he  said  four  times  for  the  king  to  read.  And  what  with 
soothing  Laussat's  ruffled  dignity  by  interpreting  into  French, 
and  meeting  Castilian  punctilio  by  talking  Spanish,  while 
every  person  present  spoke  English  and  understood  it,  the 
ordinary  fuss  was  made  more  fussy,  and  the  ordinary  misery 
more  miserable. 

But  no  promise,  either  of  a  trial  or  of  a  release,  could  be 
extorted.  Laussat,  the  Frenchman,  talked  endlessly ;  but 
he  had,  and  knew  he  had,  no  power,  —  strictly  speaking,  he 
had  no  business  there.  The  same  might  be  said  of  young 
Salcedo,  who  talked,  however,  more  than  any  one  but  his 
father,  and  to  no  purpose.  He  had  come,  as  was  his  wont, 
without  being  asked.  The  governor  had  summoned  Laussat, 
only  as  a  later  man  in  power  used  to  invoke  Mr.  Jorkins 
when  he  wanted  to  avoid  responsibility.  The  governor  him 
self  said  little,  and  explained  nothing.  The  consuls  made 
their  protests,  made  their  threats,  which  were  written  down 
"  for  the  king  to  read  ;  "  but  the  governor  declared  he  was 
under  orders.  Count  Cornel,  Minister  of  the  Colonies  at 
Madrid,  had  written  thus  and  so  ;  and  who  was  a  poor  local 
governor  to  stand  one  instant  before  Count  Cornel  ? 

After  this  had  been  said  six  times,  and  the  protest  had 


OR,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS:'  365 

been  five  times  renewed,  Lonsdale  rose,   and  said  grave- 

iy,- 

"  Then  we  must  leave  your  excellency.  The  transaction 
appears  to  me  much  more  serious  than  your  excellency  thinks 
it.  Your  excellency  claims  the  right  to  send  British  subjects 
secretly  to  Cuba  for  trial.  We  resist  that  right :  I  say  resist^ 
where  my  colleague  said  protest.  I  ought  to  inform  your 
excellency,  that  I  sent  directions  this  morning  to  his  Britan 
nic  Majesty's  naval  officer  in  command  below  the  Pass.  That 
officer  will  search  every  vessel  coming  down  the  river,  and 
will  rescue  any  British  subject  he  finds  on  board,  though  that 
subject  be  on  a  ship-of-war  of  the  King  of  Spain." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Gov.  Salcedo  himself  did 
not  maintain  the  haughty  look  of  indifference  which  he  had 
pretended.  He  looked  Lonsdale  steadily  and  anxiously  in 
the  eye.  Laussat  pretended  not  to  hear  what  was  said.  The 
secretaries  prepared  four  copies  for  the  king. 

"  And  will  the  American  squadron  look  for  American  citi 
zens  ?  "  said  the  governor  at  last,  with  a  sneer. 

"  I  think  there  are  no  American  vessels  of  war  there," 
replied  Lonsdale  quietly.  "  If  they  were,  Mr.  Clark  would 
communicate  with  them,  I  suppose." 

"  And  how  does  your  order,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  affect  the  per 
sons  whom  you  say  are  our  prisoners  ;  for  whom,  observe,  I 
disclaim  all  responsibility  ?  " 

"  Your  excellency  cannot  mistake  me.  Silas  Perry  and 
Seth  Ransom  are  both  subjects  of  George  the  Third." 

"  The  American  consul  has  claimed  them  as  American  citi 
zens,"  said  the  governor  in  excitement.  "And  you  must 
pardon  me,  Mr.  Lonsdale  :  your  ignorance  is  that  of  a  stran 
ger  ;  their  nationality  is  perfectly  known  here.  No  person  so 
important  in  the  American  interest,  always  excepting  the 
honorable  consul,  as  Mr.  Silas  Perry ;  unless,  indeed,  Senor 
Ransom's  claim  is  superior  to  his,  as  he  certainly  supposes  it 
to  be." 

"  I   speak  of  facts,"  replied  Lonsdale,  —  "  facts  everywhere 


366  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

known.  These  men  were  born  British  subjects.  It  is  true 
that  the  State  of  Massachusetts,  in  which  they  were  born,  is 
no  longer  a  part  of  the  British  empire ;  but  these  men,  born 
under  the  flag  of  England,  were  not  residents  of  Massachu 
setts  when  that  change  took  place.  They  have  never  forfeited 
their  allegiance  to  the  King  of  England,  nor  his  protection. 
They  are  under  the  English  flag  to-day.'.' 

Everybody  was  amazed  at  this  bold  position  so  suddenly 
assumed  by  this  calm  man.  For  a  moment  there  was  silence. 
Then  the  governor  said,  — 

"  It  is  too  late  to-day ;  but,  if  the  men  can  be  found  in  this 
jurisdiction,  we  will  learn  from  them  to  what  nation  they 
belong." 

"And  when  shall  we  have  this  privilege,"  asked  Mr.  Lons- 
dale  boldly,  "  of  seeing  the  prisoners,  who,  as  I  had  undei 
stood,   were   not  known   by  your   excellency  to  be  impris 
oned  ?  " 

"To-morrow  is  Sunday,"  said  the  governor  with  equal 
coolness.  "I  understand  that  it  will  be  disagreeable  to 
Englishmen  and  Americans  to  attend  to  business  then.  Shall 
we  say  Tuesday  ?  " 

"  No  day  better  than  Sunday  for  an  act  of  the  simplest  jus 
tice,"  said  Lonsdale. 

The  governor  had  committed  himself ;  and  it  was  agreed 
that  after  mass  the  same  party  should  meet  again. 

And  then  the  English  and  American  gentlemen  were  bowed 
out  of  the  room ;  and  the  four  clerks  completed  their  foui 
memoirs  for  the  king. 


OR.   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  367 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

WHAT   NEXT? 
"  To-morrow  is  behind."  —  DRYDBN. 

THAT  night  was  an  eventful  night  in  the  little  American 
"colony."  Daniel  Clark's  magnificent  mansion,  the  consu 
late  and  its  dependent  offices,  Davis's  rope-walk  on  Canal 
Street,  and,  indeed,  every  vessel  in  the  stream,  had  its  great 
or  little  consultation  of  outraged  and  indignant  men.  It  was 
not  the  first  time  in  which  the  handful  of  Americans  in  Or 
leans  had  had  to  consult  together  as  to  their  mutual  protec 
tion.  We  have  still  extant  the  little  notes  which  Daniel 
Clark  from  time  to  time  sent  up  to  Gen.  Wilkinson,  who  com 
manded  the  American  army,  and  whose  quarters  were  as  near 
as  Fort  Adams  in  Mississippi,  arranging  for  the  co-operation 
of  the  Americans  within  and  the  Americans  without  when 
the  time  should  come.  And  the  army  was  not  unwilling  to 
make  the  dash  down  the  river.  It  was  held  in  the  leash  not 
too  easily.  Constant  Freeman  and  other  tried  officers  knew 
to  a  pound  the  weight  of  those  honeycombed  guns  on  the 
Spanish  works ;  they  longed  to  try  a  sharp,  prompt  escalade 
against  those  rotten  palisades;  and  there  was  not  a  man  of 
them  but  was  sure  that  the  handful  of  Franco-Spanish  troops 
would  give  way  in  half  an  hour  before  that  resolute  rush, 
when  it  should  be  made.  Whether,  indeed,  the  gates  were 
not  first  opened  by  the  two  hundred  insulted  and  determined 
Americans  within,  would  be  a  question. 

It  was  all  a  question  of  time,  for  the  two  or  three  years  of 


368  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS:, 

which  this  story  has  been  telling.  The  Americans  within  the 
city  were  always  believing  that  the  time  had  come.  Gen. 
Wilkinson  was  always  patting  them  on  the  back,  and  bidding 
them  keep  all  ready,  but  to  wait  a  little  longer.  Recent  reve 
lations  in  the  archives  of  Spain  have  made  that  certain  which 
was  then  only  suspected,  that  this  man  was  at  the  same  time 
in  the  regular  pay  of  the  King  of  Spain  and  of  the  Government 
of  the  United  States.  There  is  therefore  reason  to  doubt 
how  far  his  advice  in  this  matter  was  sincere.  But,  as  the 
end  has  proved  fortunate,  a  good-natured  people  forgets  the 
treason. 

They  would  abide  the  decision  of  the  governor  and  the 
prefect,  to  be  rendered  the  next  day.  If  then  the  prisoners 
were  not  surrendered,  why,  that  meant  war.  After  the  coun 
sels  of  this  night,  the  Americans  were  determined.  A  mes 
senger  should  be  sent  up  the  river  in  a  canoe  ;  and,  lest  the 
water-guard  arrested  him,  Will  Harrod  should  go  up  by  land 
through  the  Creek  country.  Harrod  did  not  decline  the 
commission,  though  he  preferred  to  remain  within,  where,  as 
he  believed,  would  be  the  post  of  danger.  So  soon  as  the 
consultation  was  ended,  he  hurried  to  Mr.  Perry's  house  to 
tell  the  ladies  such  chances  as  the  meeting  gave.  But  he 
was  too  late  for  them  that  evening. 

It  was  in  the  loveliness  of  early  morning  the  next  day, 
with  every  rose  at  its  sweetest,  every  mocking-bird  vieing 
with  its  fellow,  every  magnolia  loading  the  air  with  its  rich 
perfume,  that  the  brave  fellow  came  running  down  into  the 
garden,  and  found  Inez  there.  He  told  her  hastily  what  was 
determined,  and  that  the  wishes  of  these  gentlemen,  which 
he  must  regard  as  commands,  compelled  him  to  leave  her 
and  her  aunt,  just  at  the  time,  of  all  times,  when  he  wanted 
to  be  nearest  to  them. 

"  Dear  Inez,"  he  said  boldly,  "  you  know  that  I  would  not 
move  from  your  side  but  in  the  wish  to  serve  you.  You 
know  that  I  have  no  thought,  no  wish,  no  prayer  in  life,  but 
that  I  may  serve  you.  You  do  not  know,  that,  for  two  years 


0#,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS:''  369 

and  more,  I  have  thought  of  you  first,  of  you  last,  of  you 
always ;  that  there  is  no  wish  of  my  heart,  nay,  no  thought  of 
my  life,  but  is  yours,  —  wholly  yours.  I  should  die  if  I  were 
to  part  from  you  without  saying  this ;  and  I  wish,  my  dear 
Inez,  that  you  would  let  me  say  a  thousand  times  more." 

He  had  never  called  her  Inez,  of  course,  without  that 
fatal  "  Miss ; "  far  less,  of  course,  had  he  ever  called  her 
"dear." 

But  the  gallant  fellow  had  resolved,  that  come  what  might, 
and  let  Inez  say  what  she  may,  he  would  call  her  "dear  Inez" 
once,  if  he  died  for  it.  Now  he  had  made  a  chance  to  do  so 
twice  before  he  let  her  answer.  And  so  he  waited  bravely 
for  her  reply. 

Poor  Inez  ! 

She  looked  up  at  him,  and  she  tried  to  smile,  and  the 
smile  would  not  come.  Only  her  great  eyes  brimmed  full  of 
tears,  which  would  not  run  over.  She  looked  down,  she 
turned  pale ;  she  knew  she  did,  and  he  saw  she  did.  Still  he 
waited,  and  still  she  tried  to  speak.  She  stopped  in  their 
walk,  she  turned  resolutely  toward  him ;  and  now  she  was  so 
pale,  that  he  grew  pale  as  she  looked  up  at  him.  And  she 
gave  him  her  hand  slowly. 

"  I  will  speak,"  she  said,  almost  gasping,  that  she  might  do 
so,  — "I  will  speak.  Will  Harrod,  dear  Will  Harrod,"  a 
smile  at  last,  or  an  effort  at  a  smile  in  all  her  seriousness, 
"  I  love  you  better  than  my  life." 

And  then  she  could  hardly  stand;  but  there  was  little 
need.  Will  Harrod's  arms  were  round  her,  and  there  was 
little  danger  that  she  should  fall.  And  then  they  walked  up 
one  avenue,  and  down  another,  and  they  talked  back  through 
one  year,  and  forward  through  another,  and  tried  to  recall — 
yes,  and  did  recall  —  every  single  ride  upon  the  prairie  in 
those  happy  days,  —  what  he  said  above  the  Blanco  River, 
and  what  she  said  that  day  by  the  San  Marcos  Spring ;  and 
if  he  ought  to  have  thought  that  that  cluster  of  grapes  meant 
any  thing,  and  if  she  remembered  the  wreath  of  the  creeper ; 


370  PHILIP  NJLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

and  all  the  thousand  nothings  of  old  happy  times,  when  they 
dreamed  so  little  of  what  was  before  them.  For  one  happy 
quarter-hour  now,  they  even  forgot  the  dangers  and  miseries 
of  to-day. 

Yes ;  and  when  they  came  back  to  them,  as  back  they 
must  come,  oh,  how  much  more  endurable  they  were,  and 
how  much  more  certain  was  she  and  was  he,  that  all  would 
come  out  well !  If  he  must  go  to  Natchez,  why,  he  must ; 
but  no  parting  now  could  be  so  terrible  as  that  other  part 
ing,  when  they  did  not  know. 

They  went  in  to  join  the  party  at  breakfast.  Harrod  was 
ready  to  kiss  Inez  twenty  times  in  presence  of  them  all. 
But  Inez  was  far  more  proper  and  diplomatic.  Still,  as  she 
passed  her  aunt,  she  stooped  and  kissed  her,  and  said  in  a 
whisper,  — 

"  Darling  auntie,  you  have  not  told  me  your  secret,  bu/ 
you  are  welcome  to  mine." 

And,  happier  than  any  queen,  she  went  through  the  pretty 
ministries  of  the  table;  and  Ma-ry  knew,  by  intuition,  that 
every  thing  was  well. 

Was  every  thing  well  ?  That,  alas !  must  be  decided  at 
the  formal  hearing  of  the  forenoon,  when  the  prisoners  were 
to  be  brought  fonvard,  "  if  they  could  be  found  within  this 
jurisdiction." 

It  proved,  as  might  be  expected,  that  they  "could  be 
found,"  although,  to  the  last,  the  governor  and  his  son  and 
the  intendant  had  said,  and  the  prefect  had  intimated,  that 
they  would  not  acknowledge  that  they  knew  any  thing  about 
either  of  them. 

"  It  is  all  like  Pontius  Pilate,  and  Herod,  and  Annas  the 
high  priest,"  said  Asaph  Huling.  "  Shifting  and  shirking, 
.and  only  agreeing  in  lying ! " 

So  soon  as  the  consuls  and  Mr.  Lonsdale  and  Harrod  had 
appeared,  and  made  their  compliments,  the  governor's  son 
nodded,  and  a  sort  of  orderly  disappeared.  In  a  moment 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  371 

Ransom  entered,  and,  in  a  moment  more,  Silas  Perry  on  the 
other  side.  Ransom's  beard  had  grown,  and  his  clothes  were 
soiled ;  evidently  none  of  the  elegances  of  hospitality  had 
been  wasted  upon  him ;  but  he  was  fully  master  of  the  Dosi- 
tion ;  he  came  in  as  if  he  were  directing  the  policemen  who 
brought  him ;  he  bowed  civilly  to  Mr.  Huling,  to  Mr.  Hutch- 
ings,  to  Mr.  Harrod,  and  to  Mr.  Lonsdale ;  but,  as  for  the 
prefect  and  the  governor,  they  might  as  well  have  been 
statues  in  the  decoration.  He  took  a  seat,  and  the  seat 
which  was  intended,  by  a  sort  of  divine  instinct,  and  sat,  as 
if  he  were  the  lord  high  chancellor,  before  whom  all  these 
people  had  been  summoned. 

Silas  Perry  was  neatly  dressed,  and  had  not,  in  fact,  been 
left  to  suffer  personal  indignity  or  inconvenience :  but  he 
was  pale  and  nervous ;  he  seemed  to  Lonsdale  ten  years 
older  than  when  he  saw  him  last.  Harrod  had  never  seen 
him  before ;  but  Mr.  Perry's  delight  at  seeing  Ransom  re-as 
sured  him.  "  Are  you  here,  my  dear  Ransom,"  said  he, 
"and  what  for?  I  thought  they  had  thrown  you  into  the 
river." 

The  secretaries  hastily  wrote  down  for  the  king's  informa 
tion  the  fourfold  statement  that  Don  Silas  had  supposed 
"hat  the  major-domo  Ransom  had  been  thrown  into  the  river. 

"  Donno,  sir,"  replied  Ransom  in  a  lower  tone.  "  Had 
me  up  three  times,  cos  they  wanted  to  hear  the  truth  told 
rm,  for  a  kind  of  surprise,  you  know.  Donno  what  they 
wMit  now." 

"  Then  you  are  a  prisoner  too,  Ransom  ?  " 

"Guess  I  be.  Darbies  knocked  off,  jest  afore  I  come 
1 7  stairs." 

And  Ransom  looked  curiously  at  both  windows,  as  one 
who  should  inquire  how  easy  it  might  be  to  break  these  two 
governors'  heads  together  by  one  sudden  blow,  and,  with 
one  leap,  emancipate  himself  from  custody ;  but  he  had  no 
serious  thought  of  abandoning  the  company  he  was  in. 

The  governor  tapped  impatiently ;  and  a  kind  of  major 


372  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

domo  with  a  black  gown  on,  who  had  not  been  present  the 
day  before,  came  and  told  Ransom  to  be  silent.  Mr.  Perry 
told  him  the  same  thing,  and  he  obeyed. 

"We  have  no  necessity  for  any  formal  investigations," 
said  the  governor,  in  a  courtly  conversational  manner,  which 
he  was  proud  of.  "  I  had  almost  said  we  are  all  friends. 
Many  of  us  are.  I  hope  Don  Silas  recognizes  me  as  one. 
But  all  purposes  will  be  best  answered  if  Don  Silas  will 
mention  to  these  gentlemen  his  name,  his  age,  and  his 
nationality." 

Lonsdale  shuddered.  If  the  Yankee  should  say,  "  Silas 
Perry,  age  sixty-two,  an  American  citizen,"  he  would  be  out 
of  court.  But  Mr.  Perry  answered  firmly,  — 

"  I  should  like  to  know  where  I  am.  If  this  is  a  court,  I 
demand  to  know  what  I  am  tried  for." 

"  Indeed  this  is  no  court,  my  dear  friend,"  said  the  courtly 
governor :  "  we  have  met,  at  the  request  of  these  gentlemen, 
for  a  little  friendly  conversation." 

"  Then  I  hope  these  gentlemen  and  your  excellency  will 
converse,"  said  Mr.  Perry  bitterly.  "  I  have  always  found  I 
profited  more  by  listening  than  by  talking." 

"  You  do  yourself  injustice,  Don  Silas.  We  had  a  ques 
tion  here  yesterday  which  only  you,  it  seems,  can  answer. 
These  gentlemen,  in  fact,  asked  for  your  presence,  that  we 
might  obtain  satisfaction." 

"  If  I  am  to  obtain  any,"  said  Perry  undaunted,  "  I  must 
know  whether  I  am  a  prisoner  here  to  be  badgered,  or  a 
freeman  permitted  to  go  at  large.  As  a  freeman,  I  will  ren 
der  any  help  to  these  gentlemen  or  to  your  excellency,  as  I 
always  have  done  loyally,  as  your  excellency  has  more  than 
once  acknowledged  to  me.  As  a  prisoner,  I  say  nothing,  — 
no,  not  even  under  a  Spanish  examination." 

This  with  a  sneer,  which  the  governor  perfectly  compre 
hended. 

"  You  ask,"  said  he,  "  precisely  the  question  which  you  are 
here  to  answer ;  or,  rather,  the  answer  may  be  said  to  depend 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  373 

upon  your  answer  to  my  friend  here.  The  American  consul 
here  is  claiming  your  person  as  an  American  citizen.  The 
British  consul  intervenes,  and,  as  I  understand  the  matter, 
claims  you  as  a  subject  of  George  the  Third.  It  is  impos 
sible  for  us  here  even  to  consider  their  claims,  till  we  know 
in  what  light  you  hold  yourself." 

"la  subject  of  George  the  Third ! "  cried  Perry  incredu 
lously.  "I  did  not  think  George  the  Third  himself  was 
crazy  enough  to  say  that;  and  I  believe  his  Majesty  has 
heard  my  name." 

But,  at  the  moment,  he  caught  Lonsdale's  eager  and  im 
ploring  eye.  Lonsdale  waved  in  his  hand  a  card  ;  and  Silas 
Perry  was  conscious,  for  the  first  moment,  that  he  also  held 
one.  Ransom  had  slipped  it  into  his  hand,  as  he  rose  to 
address  the  governor ;  but  till  now  he  had  not  looked  at  it. 
He  paused  now,  and  read  what  was  written  on  it. 

"  I  have  claimed  you  as  a  British  subject  The  English  fleet  is  off  the 
Pass,  and  will  take  you  off  if  you  admit  the  claim.  Ransom  too.  The 
governor  is  afraid.  Take  our  protection.  —  LONSDALE." 

Silas  Perry  read  the  card,  nodded  good-humoredly  to 
Lonsdale ;  and  while  the  governor,  amazed  at  the  manifest 
deceit  which  had  been  practised,  hesitated  what  to  say,  Mr. 
Perry  himself  took  the  word. 

"  I  can  relieve  your  excellency  of  any  question.  I  am  a 
citizen  of  the  United  States.  I  was  born  in  Squam,  in 
Massachusetts,  in  the  year  1741.  When  I  was  twenty-one 
years  of  age  I  removed  to  the  Havana.  With  every  penny 
of  my  purse  and  every  throb  of  my  heart,  I  assisted  in  that 
happy  revolution  which  separated  those  colonies  from  the 
British  crown.  And  lest,  by  any  misfortune,  my  children 
should  be  regarded  subjects,  either  of  George  the  Third  or 
of  Charles  the  Third,  on  my  first  visit  to  England  after  the 
peace,  at  the  American  embassy,  I  renounced  all  allegiance 
to  the  King  of  England,  and  obtained  the  certificate  of  my 


374  PHILIP  NOLAN^S  FRIENDS; 

American  nationality  from  that  man  who  has  since  been  the 
honored  President  of  my  country.  So  much  for  me. 

"  With  regard  to  this  good  fellow,  I  presume  the  consul  is 
technically  right.  Seth  Ransom  was  born  a  subject  of 
George  the  Third.  He  did  not  reside  in  the  United  States 
when  the  treaty  of  peace  was  made  ;  nor  has  he  resided  there 
since.  He  is  undoubtedly,  at  law,  a  subject  of  the  King  of 
England." 

So  saying,  Silas  Perry  sat  down.  The  four  secretaries 
provided  four  transcripts  for  the  gratification  of  their  king. 

"  How  is  this  ? "  said  the  governor  himself,  turning  to 
Ransom.  "  Have  you  understood  what  the  gentleman  has 
said  ?  " 

Seth  Ransom  had  been  contemplating  the  ceiling,  still  in 
the  character  of  the  Lord  Chancellor. 

"  Understood  all  I  wanted  to,"  said  he.  "  Perhaps  you 
didn't  understand,  cos  he  spoke  English.  Ef  you  like,  I'll 
put  it  in  Spanish  for  you." 

For,  as  it  happened,  the  etiquettes  of  yesterday  had  not 
been  observed.  The  parties  had  begun  with  English  :  with 
English  they  went  on.  But  Ransom,  for  his  own  purposes, 
now  changed  the  language. 

"  You  can  ask  me  what  you  please,"  said  he.  "  But,  if  you 
have  not  sent  the  king  the  other  things  I  told  you,  you 
might  read  them  over  j  for  I  shall  tell  you  the  same  thing 
now." 

The  governor  turned  up  the  record  of  Ransom's  first 
examination.  He  then  said,  with  a  sneer,  — 

"  This  reads  :  '  Seth  Ransom,  being  questioned,  states  that 
he  is  a  citizen  of  Massachusetts,  one  of  the  United  States  of 
America.'  But  I  understand  Don  Silas,  that  this  is  a  mis 
take,  and  that  we  are  to  say  that  you  are  a  subject  of  King 
George  the  Third." 

"  You  can  say  what  you  like,"  said  Ransom  fiercely,  in  a 
line  of  Castilian  wholly  his  own,  which  was,  however,  quite 
intelligible  to  the  governor,  and  the  four  secretaries  who  toiled 


OK,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  375 

after.  "  You  know  as  well  as  I  know  that  whatever  you  say 
will  be  a  lie,  and,  if  you  say  that,  it  will  be  the  biggest  lie  of 
all." 

R.ansom  spoke  hastily,  and  in  his  most  lordly  air  of  defi 
ance,  but  not  so  hastily  but  they  could  all  follow  him  ;  and 
the  secretaries  noted  his  language  in  such  short-hand  as  they 
could  command. 

Mr.  Hatchings,  the  English  consul,  availed  himself  here  of 
the  pretence  that  they  were  conversing  as  friends  in  the 
governor's  office,  and  that  none  of  the  forms  of  court  were 
observed. 

"  Ransom,"  said  he,  "  all  that  we  want  to  prove  is,  that 
you  never  appeared  before  a  magistrate,  and  made  oath  of 
your  citizenship.  Of  course  we  all  know  where  you  were 
born." 

Ransom  listened  superciliously,  with  one  eye  still  turned  to 
the  heavens. 

"  You  don't  want  me  to  be  lying  too,  Mr.  Hutchings. 
Them  eyedolaters  do,  cos  it's  their  way.  But  you  don't." 

And  he  paused,  as  if  for  reflection  and  for  recollection. 

Lonsdale  took  courage  from  the  pause  to  say,  — 

"  Of  course,  the  king's  officers  have  no  claim  on  you ;  but 
we  are  all  friends  now,  and  all  the  king's  officers  want  is  a 
right  to  befriend  you." 

A  bland  smile  crept  over  Ransom's  face. 

"  Much  obliged,"  said  he :  "  they's  befriended  me  afore 
now." 

Then,  as  if  this  "  solemn  mockery  "  had  gone  far  enough, 
he  turned  to  the  governor,  and  said,  again  in  Spanish,  — 

-  i  will  tell  you  all  about  it.  When  the  war  began,  Gen. 
Washington  wanted  powder, — he  wanted  it  badly;  and  he 
>aid  to  old  Mugford  that  he'd  better  go  down  the  bay,  and 
catch  some  English  store-ships  for  him.  And  I  volunteered 
under  Mugford,  and  went  down  with  him.  And  we  took  the 
powder,  and  drove  those  fellows  out  of  Boston." 

The  Castilian  language  furnished  Ransom  with  some  very 


376  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS ; 

happy  epithets  —  as  terms  of  reproach,  not  to  say  contumely 

—  with  which  to  speak  of  the  English  navy  and  army. 

The  secretaries,  amazed,  wrote  down  this  ridicule  of  a 
king. 

"After  Mugford  was  killed,  I  went  out  again,  — first  with 
Hopkins,  and  then  with  Manly.  And,  the  first  time,  I  went 
to  Hopkins's  shipping-office,  down  at  Newport ;  and  I  swore 
on  the  Bible  that  I'd  never  have  any  thing  more  to  do  with 
George  the  Third,  nor  any  of  that  crew,  —  poor  miserable 
sons  of  dogs  as  they  were ;  and,  when  I  went  with  Manly, 
I  shipped  at  old  Bill  Coram's  office,  and  he  had  a  Bible 
too,  and  I  swore  the  same  thing  again." 

Of  all  which  the  secretares  made  quadruplicate  narrative. 

"  That  time  his  fellows  caught  us,"  continued  Ransom, 
pointing  over  his  shoulder  at  Lonsdale.  "We  were  under 
the  Bermudas,  waiting  for  the  Jamaica  fleet ;  and  there  came 
a  fog,  and  the  wind  fell ;  and,  when  the  fog  rose,  I'll  be 
damned  if  we  were  not  under  the  guns  of  a  seventy-four,  — 
the  '  Charlotte  ; '  and  they  boarded  us,  and  carried  every 
man  to  England.  And  that's  the  only  time  I  ever  ate  his 
bread,"  —  pointing  again  to  Lonsdale,  —  "black  stuff,  and 
nasty  it  was  too.  That  was  at  Plymouth. 

"  I  lived  there  a  year.  And  once  every  month  a  miserable 
creature  in  a  red  coat  —  one  of  his  fellows  —  came  and  asked 
us  to  take  service  in  the  king's  navy.  And  there  was  some 
dirty  Spanish  and  Portuguese,  and  niggers  [this  in  English], 

—  lying  dogs,  all  of  them,  —  that  did.     But  all  the  Americans 
told  him  to  go  to  hell,  and  I  suppose  he  went  there,  because 
I  have  never  seen  him  since. 

"  And  at  last  there  was  an  exchange,  —  exchanged  a  thou 
sand  of  us  against  a  thousand  of  his  fellows  we  had.  Poor 
bargain  he  made  too !  And  that  time  they  took  me  over  to 
France  ;  and  they  made  me  captain  of  the  squad,  because  I 
could  speak  their  lingo,  —  the  same  as  I  speak  yours,  because 
you  do  not  know  any  better.  And  there  we  saw  the  man 
that  told  the  King  of  France  what  he'd  better  do, — same 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  377 

man  that  fixed  the  lightning-rod  on  Boston  Light.  King 
George  did  not  know  how.  King  fixed  it  wrong,  —  did  every 
thing  wrong." 

The  secretaries,  amazed,  entered  these  statements  on 
King  George's  knowledge  of  electricity. 

"  White-haired  old  man  he  was,  —  long-haired  man,  —  sort 
of  a  Quaker ;  and  he  came  and  asked  all  that  were  Ameri 
cans  to  come  to  his  place,  and  take  the  oath.  So  I  took  it 
there, — that's  three  times.  And  he  gave  me  my  certificate, 

—  ' purtection  '  they  call  it,"  —  turning  to  the  secretaries  to 
give  them  the  word  in  English,  —  "  and  when  any  of  his  men 

—  the  king's,  I  mean  —  see  that,  why,  they  can't  take  a  fellow 
out  of  any  ship  at  all.     And  there  it  is :  if  you  think  your 
king  would  like  to  know  what  it  says,  I'll  read  it  to  you.     I 
always  keep  it  by  me  ;  and  these  fellows  of  yours,  when  they 
stole  every  thing  else  I  had  the  day  you  sent  them  after  me, 
they  didn't  find  it,  because  I  did  not  choose  to  have  them. 
You'd  better  tell  that  to  the  king.    Tell  him  they  are  all  fools, 
and  good  for  nothing." 

By  this  time  Ransom  was  worked  into  a  terrible  passion. 
He  still  commanded  himself  enough,  however,  to  hold  the 
precious  paper  out,  and  to  read  in  English,  — 

"KNOW   ALL  MEN, 

By  these  presents,  that  Seth  Ransom,  of  Tatnuck,  Worcester  County,  in 
the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  one  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  hath  this  day  appeared  before  me,  and  renounced  all  allegiance 
to  all  kings  a,  id  powers,  save  to  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts, 
and,  in  especial,  all  allegiance  to  King  George  the  Third,  his  heirs  and 
successors. 

"And  the  said  Seth  Ransom  hath  hereby  given  to  him  THE  PRO 
TECTION  of  the  United  States  of  America  in  all  and  every  of  his 
legal  enterprises  by  sea  or  by  land,  of  which  these  presents  are  the  cer 
tificate. 

"  Signed, 

"BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN, 

"  Minister  of  the  United  States. 
"  Witness, 

"WILLIAM  TEMPLE  FRANKLIN, 

"Passy,  near  Paris,  June  16,  1781." 


37$  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

Ransom  knew  the  paper  by  heart.  He  read  it  as  an  orator, 
—  with  some  break-down  on  the  long  words. 

This  short  address  produced  no  little  sensation.  Two 
secretaries  crossed  to  take  the  paper  to  copy  it.  Ransom 
stepped  forward  to  give  it  to  them,  stumbled  and  fell  as  he 
did  so.  When  he  rose,  he  apologized,  —  affected  to  have 
given  it  to  one  of  the  men  ;  they  were  in  turn  almost  per 
suaded  each  that  the  other  had  it.  Between  the  three,  the 
paper  could  be  nowhere  found  ;  and  Ransom  cursed  them 
with  volumes  of  rage  because  they  had  stolen  it  so  soon. 

"  Have  you  any  further  inquiries  to  make,  Mr.  Hutchings  ? 
or  have  you,  Mr.  Lonsdale  ?  "  asked  the  governor,  address 
ing  the  English  gentlemen  with  his  courtly  sneer. 

Before  they  could  reply,  Ransom  rose  again,  and  waved 
his  hand.  Like  Lockhart  before  the  Red  Comyn,  he  seemed 
resolved  to  "  make  sicker." 

"  Beg  your  pardon,"  said  he  in  English  :  "  I  forgot  to  say 
that  I  know  you  want  to  hang  me  ;  I  knew  that  the  first  day 
you  shut  me  up  there.  Ef  you  think  anybody's  forgotten 
how  t'other  one  —  the  Paddy  governor  —  hung  them  French 
gentlemen,  it's  because  you  think  we's  all  fools.  None  on 
'em's  forgot  it.  O'Reilly,  the  other  one,  died  screamin'  and 
howlin'  in  his  bed,  because  he  see  the  Frenchmen  all  round 
his  room  pointin'  at  him.  You  know  that  as  well  as  I  do. 
Now  you'd  better  hang  me.  After  you've  hanged  me,  you 
can  think  up  a  pack  of  lies,  and  send  'em  to  the  king  to  tell 
him  what  you  hanged  me  for." 

And  then  the  old  man  sat  down  with  a  benignant  smile. 
His  happy  allusion  was  to  that  most  horrible  judicial  murder 
committed  in  the  last  century,  of  which  he  had  spoken  to 
Inez.  For  generations  the  memory  of  that  horror  did  not 
die  out  in  the  colony.  It  was  the  very  last  subject  which 
Salcedo  would  willingly  hear  alluded  to ;  and  this  old  Ran 
som  knew  perfectly  well :  for  that  reason  he  chose  it  for  his 
last  words. 

After  a  ghastly  pause,  Salcedo  said  again,  mth  some  diffi 
culty,  — 


OK,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  379 

"  Have  you  any  further  inquiries  to  make,  gentlemen  ? " 

"  I  have  only  to  protest,  in  all  form,"  said  the  plucky 
English  consul,  "  against  a  transaction  which  strikes  at  the 
root  of  all  commerce  among  nations.  I  shall  report  the 
whole  business  to  the  Foreign  Office,  and  I  know  that  it  will 
meet  the  severe  censure  of  the  king." 

The  governor  bowed.     He  turned  to  Mr.  Hulincr  •  — 

"  Have  you  any  remarks  to  offer  ? " 

"  I  make  the  same  protest  which  my  clerk  made  yesterday." 

And  he  read  it,  as  it  had  been  put  on  paper.    He  added,  — 

"  I  assure  your  excellency,  in  that  friendship  to  which  your 
excellency  referred  just  now,  that  no  act  could  be  so  fatal  to 
friendly  relations  for  the  future.  Let  me  read  to  your  excel 
lency  from  the  debate  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  of 
the  23d  of  February  last.  I  received  the  report  only  last 
evening.  The  Secretary  of  State  instructs  me  to  lay  it  before 
your  excellency ;  and  I  am  to  say  that  the  Administration 
has  the  utmost  difficulty  in  restraining  the  anger  and  ardor 
of  the  country.  If  your  excellency  will  note  the  words  used 
in  debate,  they  mean  simply  war.  It  is  to  fan  the  flames  of 
such  anger  that  your  excellency  orders  our  friends  sent  to 
Cuba  for  trial ;  "  and  he  read  from  the  warlike  speeches  of 
White  and  Breckenridge. 

The  governor  listened  with  courtly  indifference.  When 
Mr.  Huling  had  done,  and  handed  the  papers  to  a  secretary, 
the  governor  said  contemptuously  to  that  officer  :  — 

"  You  need  not  trouble  yourself.  His  Majesty  has  read 
that  debate  three  weeks  ago :  at  least  I  have  ;  I  have  no 
doubt  he  has." 

Laussat,  the  French  prefect,  bowed,  and  took  the  papers. 
He  read  them  with  an  interest  which  belied  the  contempt 
affected  by  the  other. 

All  parties  sat  silent,  however.  The  evident  determination 
of  the  governor  to  yield  no  point  made  it  difficult  to  re-open 
the  discussion. 

William  Harrod  was  the  first  to  speak.     With  no   training 


380  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

for  diplomacy,  and  no  love  for  it,  he  rose  abruptly,  and  took 
his  hat. 

"  I  understand  your  excellency  to  declare  war  against  the 
United  States  :  in  that  case,  I  have  no  place  here." 

"  You  will  understand  what  you  choose,  young  man,"  said 
the  governor  severely.  "  I  have  never  understood  why  you 
appeared  here  at  all ;  and  I  do  not  even  now  know  why  I  do 
not  arrest  you  for  contempt  of  His  Most  Catholic  Majesty." 

"  Let  me  ask,"  said  Lonsdale,  "  if  your  excellency  will  not 
consent  to  some  delay  in  the  measures  you  propose  toward 
our  friends,  —  a  communication  home,  or  with  the  city  of 
Washington  ?  " 

"  I  have  already  said,  Senor  Lonsdale,  that  the  officers  of 
the  King  of  Spain  do  not  call  councils  of  foreign  powers  to 
assist  them  in  their  administration  of  justice." 

Lonsdale  bowed,  did  not  speak  again,  but  took  his  hat  also, 
very  angry.  At  this  moment,  however,  to  the  undisguised 
surprise  even  of  the  oldest  diplomatists  in  the  group,  their 
number  was  enlarged,  as  a  footman  ushered  into  the  room 
Roland  Perry.  He  was  well  known  to  all  there,  excepting 
the  French  prefect  Laussat  and  Harrod.  He  was  dressed 
from  head  to  foot  in  leather,  and  the  leather  was  very  muddy. 
His  face  was  rough  with  a  beard  which  had  seen  no  razor  for 
a  fortnight,  and  was  buried  brown  by  a  foitnight's.sun  and 
air.  He  held  in  his  hand  the  sombrero  which  he  had  just 
removed,  and  a  heavy  riding-whip.  He  crossed  the  room 
unaffectedly  to  the  governor,  and  gave  him  his  hand. 

"  Your  excellency  must  excuse  my  costume,  but  I  am  told 
that  my  despatches  require  haste." 

He  turned  to  his  father  :  — 

"  My  dear  father,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you !  you  must  have 
been  anxious  about  my  disappearance,"  and  he  kissed  him. 

He  shook  hands  cordially  with  the  consuls  and  with  Lons 
dale.  He  offered  his  hand  to  Harrod  :  — 

"  It  is  Mr.  Harrod,  I  am  sure." 

He  bowed  to  all  the  secretaries,  and  to  Salcedo's  son 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  381 

He  shook  hands  cordially  with  Ransom.  Then,  turning  to 
the  governor  with  the  same  air  of  confident  command,  as  if 
really  everybody  had  been  waiting  for  him,  and  nothing  could 
be  done  until  he  came :  — 

*'  Will  you  do  me  the  honor  to  present  me  to  the  prefect  — 
M.  Laussat,  I  believe?" 

The  governor,  chafing  a  little  at  this  freedom,  did  as  he 
was  asked,  reserving  for  some  other  moment  the  rebuke  he 
was  about  to  give  to  this  impudent  young  gentleman. 

Laussat  hardly  understood  the  situation.  But  he  had 
learned  already  that  the  etiquettes  of  America  were  past 
finding  out. 

"  I  had  the  honor  of  meeting  your  excellency  at  the  house 
of  Citizen  La  Place,"  said  Roland ;  "  but  I  cannot  expect 
that  your  excellency  would  remember  such  a  youngster.  I 
hope  your  excellency  left  the  Baroness  of  Valcour  in  good 
health,  and  your  excellency's  distinguished  father." 

Laussat  also  postponed  the  snubbing  he  was  about  to 
administer,  not  certain  but  he  was  snubbed  himself  already. 

Roland,  with  the  same  infinite  coolness,  turned  to  the 
governor,  who  was  trying  to  collect  himself.  Roland  opened 
a  large  haversack,  very  muddy,  which  had  hung  till  now  from 
his  shoulder. 

"  This  despatch,  your  excellency,  is  from  Senor  Yrujo,  the 
Spanish  minister  at  Washington.  I  left  him  only  a  fortnight 
Thursday.  His  excellency  bids  me  assure  your  excellency 
of  his  most  distinguished  consideration.  And  this  despatch, 
Citizen  Laussat,  is  from  the  French  minister.  I  am  charged 
with  his  compliments  to  you." 

This  use  of  the  word  "citizen,"  which  was  already  out  of 
vogue,  was  necessary  to  Roland's  consummate  air  of  superi 
ority  over  the  braggart  Frenchman. 

"  And  now,  gentlemen,  as  I  see  these  despatches  are  long, 
will  you  excuse  my  father,  and  my  old  friend  Ransom  here, 
to  both  of  whom  I  have  much  to  say  ?  Your  excellency  does 
not  know  that  it  is  nearly  a  year  since  we  have  met." 


382  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS'. 

This  outrage  was  more  than  the  "moribund  old  man' 
could  stand. 

"  You  are  quite  too  fast,  Mr.  Perry.  I  know  very  well 
.when  you  went  up  the  river  to  foment  war  in  Kentucky.  I 
know  very  well  that  you  failed,  and  went  to  Washington  on 
the  same  errand.  I  know  that  these  despatches  will  tell  me 
of  your  further  failure.  If  you  wish  to  converse  with  your 
father,  it  will  be  in  this  palace,  where  I  will  provide  accom 
modations  for  both  of  you." 

"  Your  excellency  is  very  kind,"  said  the  young  man  with 
infinite  good-humor.  "When  your  excellency  and  Citizen 
Laussat  have  read  these  papers,  you  will  perhaps  think  it 
better  to  accept  my  father's  hospitality  than  to  offer  him 
yours." 

Then,  as  if  such  badinage  had  gone  far  enough,  he  nirneo 
with  quite  another  air  to  Laussat :  — 

"  M.  Laussat,"  he  said,  with  an  air  of  an  equal,  (l  this 
diplomacy  has  gone  far  enough.  New  Orleans  and  Louisi 
ana  are  in  fact,  at  this  very  moment,  a  part  of  the  United 
States.  The  First  Consul  has  sold  them  to  the  President  for 
a  large  and  sufficient  compensation.  Nothing  remains  but 
the  formal  act  of  cession." 

"  Impossible ! "  cried  Laussat,  starting  from  his  seat. 
"  My  despatches  say  nothing  of  it" 

"  I  know  not  what  they  say,"  said  the  young  man,  "  and  I 
do  not  care.  Perhaps  you  will  do  me  the  favor  to  look  at 
mine." 

He  took  from  his  pocket  a  billet,  which,  as  he  showed  to 
the  prefect,  was  written  at  Malmaison,  with  the  stamp  of  the 
First  Consul's  cabinet  on  the  corner.  It  was  in  the  hand 
writing  of  Mme.  Bonaparte,  —  a  playful  note  thanking  Ro 
land  for  the  roses  he  had  sent  her.  The  young  man  turned 
ihe  first  page  back,  and  pointed  to  a  postscript  on  the  last 
page,  in  the  cramped  writing,  not  so  well  known  then  as  now, 
of  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 

The  words  were  these  :  — 


OR,    "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  383 

MY  DEAR  SON,  —  We  speak  of  you  often,  and  we  wish  you  were  in 
France.  Say  to  your  honored  father,  who  knows  how  to  keep  a  secret, 
that  I  have  sold  Louisiana  to  Mr.  Monroe.  He  well  knows  my  friend 
ship  to  America  :  let  this  prove  it  to  him  again.  He  will  use  this  note 
with  discretion.  Health, 

^5  Germinal.     Year  XI.  BUONAPARTE. 

The  prefect  read  them,  and  read  them  again.  "  L&che, 
imbecile,  traitre /"  he  said,  between  his  teeth,  as  he  gave  back 
the  note  to  Roland. 

"  Your  excellency  may  be  curious  to  see  the  First  Consul's 
autograph,"  said  Roland ;  and  he  handed  the  little  billet  to 
the  governor  in  turn.  The  governor  read  it,  as  Roland  stood 
by ;  but,  as  he  was  about  to  give  it  to  the  secretaries,  Roland 
put  it  in  his  pocket. 

"  Your  excellency  will  pardon  me.  It  is  my  note  —  and  a 
note  from  a  lady. 

"  And  now,"  he  said,  in  that  quiet  tone  of  command  which 
became  him  so  well,  which  he  had  inherited  from  his  father, 
"as  among  friends,  we  must  confess  that  this  kind  announce 
ment  from  the  First  Consul  puts  a  new  arrangement  on  all  our 
little  affairs  in  this  room.  Your  excellency  will  perhaps  per 
mit  my  father  to  dine  at  home ;  and  I  think  Ransom  will  find 
us  some  good  sherry  in  which  to  drink  prosperity  to  France 
and  to  Spain." 

But  the  "  moribund  old  man  "  sat  with  his  head  upon  his 
breast,  pondering.  This  was  the  end,  then,  of  Phil  Nolan's 
murder ;  this  was  the  end  of  Elguezebal's  watchfulness ; 
this  the  end  of  interdicts  and  protests,  and  all  the  endless 
restrictions  of  these  weary  years.  God  be  with  Mexico  and 
Spain ! 

He  said  nothing. 

Roland  turned  to  Laussat :  "  Will  your  excellency  not  use 
your  influence  with  the  governor  ?  "  he  said. 

Laussat  looked  the  fool  he  was,  but  said  nothing. 

The  English  and  American  gentlemen  rose.  "  I  am  to 
report,  then,  to  Lord  Hawksbury,"  said  Lonsdale,  "  that  the 


384  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

Spanish  Government  is  indifferent  to  the  friendship  of 
land."     He  took  his  hat  again,  as  to  withdraw. 

"  I  am  to  write  to  Mme.  Bonaparte,"  said  Roland  Perry, 
"  that  M.  Laussat  -says  the  First  Consul  is  a  coward,  an  imbe 
cile,  and  a  traitor.  Gentlemen,  we  seem  to  have  our 
answers." 

The  poor  old  governor  raised  his  head.  "  I  shall  be  glad 
of  a  little  conference  with  his  excellency  the  prefect,  our 
friend  M.  Laussat.  Will  you  gentlemen  await  us  in  the  next 
salon  ? " 

They  waited  fifteen  minutes.  At  the  end  of  fifteen  minutes 
Mr.  Perry  and  Ransom  joined  them.  There  was  a  civil  mes 
sage  of  excuse  from  the  governor,  but  he  did  not  appear ; 
nor  was  Laussat  visible  through  the  day. 

And  so  they  left  the  governor's  house  in  triumph.  Roland 
Perry  could  hardly  come  close  enough  to  his  father.  He 
assured  himself  that  he  was  well,  and  then  his  first  questions 
were  for  news  from  Texas.  Had  Czesar  been  set  free  ? 
Had  any  of  Phil  Nolan's  party  returned  ? 

No ;  but  Barelo  had  good  hopes.    The  trials l  were  proceed- 

l  A  regular  trial  was  given  them,  of  which  the  proceedings  are  extant.  Don 
Pedro  Ramos  de  Verea  conducted  the  defence  (will  not  some  Texan  name  a 
county  for  him  ? ),  and  the  men  were  acquitted.  The  judge,  De  Vavaro,  ordered 
their  release,  Jan.  23,  1804 ;  but  Salcedo,  alas  !  was  then  in  command  of  these 
provinces  :  he  countermanded  the  degree  of  acquittal,  and  sent  the  papers  to  the 
king.  The  king,  by  a  decree  of  Feb.  23,  1807,  ordered  that  one  out  of  five  of 
Nolan's  men  should  be  hung,  and  the  others  kept  at  hard  labor  for  ten  years.  Let 
it  be  observed  that  this  is  the  royal  decree  for  ten  men  who  had  been  acquitted  by 
the  court  which  tried  them. 

When  the  decree  arrived  in  Chihuahua,  one  of  the  ten  prisoners,  Pierce,  was 
dead.  The  new  judge  pronounced  that  only  one  of  the  remaining  nine  should 
suffer  death,  and  Salcedo  approved  this  decision. 

On  the  gth  of  November,  therefore,  1807,  the  adjutant-inspector,  with  De 
Verea,  the  prisoner's  counsel,  proceeded  to  the  barracks,  where  they  were  confined, 
and  read  the  king's  decision.  A  drum,  a  glass  tumbler,  and  two  dice  were  brought , 
the  prisoners  knelt  before  the  drum,  and  were  blindfolded. 

Ephraim  Blackburn,  the  oldest  prisoner,  took  the  fatal  glass  and  dice,  and 

threw  3  and  i =  4 

Lucian  Garcia  threw  3  and  4 =7 

Joseph  Reed  threw  6  and  5 =il 


OR,  "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  385 

ing  with  infinite  slowness ;  but  Barelo  and  all  men  of  sense 
hoped  still  that  Spanish  honor  would  be  vindicated,  and  these 
men,  who  had  certainly  enlisted  in  faith  in  De  Nava's  pass, 
would  be  set  free,  —  a  hope,  alas  !  not  to  be  verified. 

David  Fero  threw  5  and  3.  ......  ..=8 

Solomon  Cooley  threw  6  and  5 =  n 

Jonah  [Tony]  Walters  threw  6  and  i =  y 

Charles  King  threw  4  and  3 .  .  =7 

Ellis  Bean  tfirew  4  and  i =5 

William  Dowlin  threw  4  and  2 =6 

Poor  Blackburn,  having  thrown  the  lowest  number,  was  hanged  on  the  nth  of 
November. 

Ellis  Bean  afterward  distinguished  himself  in  the  revolt  against  Spain,  which 
freed  Mexico. 

Csesar  had  got  detached  from  the  party,  and  was  seen  by  Pike,  high  up  on  the 
Rio  Grande. 

Of  the  end  of  the  life  of  the  other  prisoners,  no  account  has  been  found. 

We  owe  these  particulars  to  the  very  careful  researches  in  Monterey,  of  Mr.  J. 
A.  Quintero,  who  has  taken  the  most  careful  interest  in  the  fame  of  Philip  Nolan. 

People  who  are  fond  of  poetical  justice  will  be  glad  to  know  that  Salcedo  was 
fc  led  in  the  first  effort  for  Texan  liberty  in  1813.  But  so,  alas  I  was  Herran. 


386  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 


CHAPTER   XXXIX 

A   FAMILY   DINNER. 

"  Thus  for  the  boy  their  eager  prayers  they  joined, 
Which  fate  refused,  and  mingled  with  the  wind." 

Iliad. 

As  the  little  procession  passed  along  the  streets,  there  was 
almost  an  ovation  offered  to  Mr.  Perry  and  to  Ransom. 
From  every  warehouse  and  counting-room  some  one  ran  out 
to  felicitate  them.  Indeed,  the  merchants  of  every  nation 
had  felt  that  here  was  a  common  cause ;  and  Silas  Perry  was 
so  universally  respected  that  his  release  was  a  common 
victory.  Roland  walked  on  one  side  of  his  father,  and  Lons- 
dale  on  the  other,  while  Harrod  renewed  his  old  acquaint 
ance  with  Ransom.  Ransom  confessed  to  him,  that  of  all 
the  strange  events  of  the  day  his  appearance  had  surprised 
him  most.  For,  if  there  were  any  thing  regarding  which 
Ransom  had  expressed  himself  with  confidence  for  two  years 
past,  it  was  the  certainty  that  William  Harrod  had  been 
scalped,  burned  at  the  stake,  and  indeed  eaten. 

It  was  necessary  to  respect  the  open  secret  of  the  First 
Consul's  postscript  so  far  that  to  no  person  could  the  result 
of  Mr.  Monroe's  negotiation  be  distinctly  told.  It  had,  of 
course,  been  hoped  for  and  suspected  already.  In  fact,  what 
•with  delays  in  the  draft  of  the  treaty,  and  delays  in  transmis 
sion,  the  definitive  intelligence  did  not  arrive  till  some  lime 
later.  It  was  convenient  for  the  governor,  for  his  staff,  and 
-for  Laussat  and  his,  to  speak  slightly  of  the  intelligence 
But  this  was  of  no  account  to  those  who  knew  the  truth  ;  and, 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  387 

as  it  happened,  to  all  others  the  "  law's  delay  "  involved  no 
consequences  of  evil. 

Roland  hastily  told  his  story  to  his  father.  His  inquiries 
regarding  Ma-ry,  and  the  communications  he  had  to  make  to 
the  governors  of  Kentucky,  of  Tennessee,  and  of  the  North 
west,  had  taken  him  far  up  the  River  Ohio,  and  late  into  the 
spring.  He  had  determined  —  wisely  as  it  proved  —  not  to 
return  with  Lonsdale,  who  had  in  the  meanwhile  crossed  to 
Fort  Niagara  and  to  Montreal,  and  then  had  descended  the 
Mississippi.  Roland  had  preferred  to  go  to  Washington,  to 
make  full  statement  there  to  Mr.  Jefferson  and  his  father's 
old  correspondents  of  the  excited  condition  of  Orleans, 
knowing  that  he  could  return  by  sea  with  more  certainty  than 
by  land  and  the  river. 

At  Washington  he  had  heard  the  celebrated  war  debate  of 
February.  Mr.  Jefferson  had  not  received  him  into  any  close 
confidence :  that  was  not  Mr.  Jefferson's  way.  But  he  had 
told  him  of  his  hopes  that  Orleans  might  be  bought  for  the 
United  States ;  and  Mr.  Madison  had  bidden  him  encourage 
the  merchants  to  hold  out  a  little  longer.  At  the  French 
legation  he  was  treated  more  cprdially.  They  gave  him  a 
welcome  which  the  State  Department  of  that  day  did  not 
know  how  to  give,  and  late  one  night  the  French  minister 
sent  to  him,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  take  his  despatches 
to  Laussat  when  he  returned. 

"  As  it  happened,"  said  Roland,  "  I  had  within  the  hour 
received  this  note  from  Mme.  Bonaparte.  Old  Turner  had 
brought,  it  to  me,  riding  express  from  Baltimore  almost  as  I 
have  ridden  from  Tybee.  A  fortunate  curiosity  had  led 
Turner  to  carry  the  rose-bushes  to  Malmaison  himself.  He 
was  still  looking  at  the  garden  when  he  was  summoned  by  a 
lackey  to  the  house,  was  asked  who  he  was,  and  had  confided 
to  him  Mme.  Bonaparte's  billet.  She  came  into  the  hall, 
and  gave  it  to  him  with  her  own  hand,  with  a  sweet  smile. 
Something  in  what  she  said  made  Turner  think  the  note  was 
more  than  a  compliment.  Any  way,  he  had  seen  enough  of 


388  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

Paris,  he  said.  The  'Lady  Martha'  was  ready  for  sea  at 
Bordeaux;  and,  having  his  letter,  he  took  post-horses,  and 
rode  night  and  day  till  he  came  there. 

"  And  then,  sir,  they  made  the  '  Lady  Martha '  spin. 
Wood  and  iron  never  crossed  that  ocean  so  quickly  before. 
He  ran  into  Baltimore  in  twenty  days,  heard  from  Pollock 
that  I  was  at  Washington,  and  came  across  with  this  scrap  of 
paper." 

Roland  felt  the  importance  of  the  message  thus  intrusted 
to  him,  so  soon  as  he  had  read  it.  To  no  human  being  in 
Washington  did  he  dare  intrust  it ;  and  he  could  not  ruake 
out,  in  the  few  minutes  he  had  for  trying,  whether  the  French 
minister  had  received  any  corresponding  intelligence.  He 
sent  at  once  to  the  Spanish  legation,  to  offer  to  carry  their 
despatches  to  the  governor  of  Louisiana.  Then  he  crossed 
to  Baltimore,  where  the  "  Lady  Martha  "  had  been  unloading 
some  oil  and  wine ;  and,  without  a  minute's  loss  of  time,  she 
loosed  from  the  pier,  and  went  down  the  bay. 

"  With  a  spanking  breeze  we  ran,"  said  the  young  fellow. 
"  By  the  time  we  were  off  Hatteras  it  was  a  gale.  But  old 
Turner  never  flinched.  Give  him  his  due.  The  next  night 
it  was  a  north-easter,  —  blew  like  all  the  furies !  How  :?he 
walked  off !  Turner  said  she  might  run  so  till  I  said  the 
word.  I  never  said  it  Dark  it  was,  —  dark  as  Egypt ;  wet, 
cold,  even  snow  in  that  gale.  But  Turner  did  not  stop 
her,  and  I  did  not  stop  her." 

"  I  suppose  the  light-house  at  San  Augustine  stopped  her," 
said  his  father,  laughing. 

"  No,  sir ;  but  the  breakers  off  Tybee  Sound  stopped  her ; 
and  there,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  the  '  Lady  Martha,'  or  what 
is  left  of  her,  this  day." 

"  She  could  not  have  run  her  last  in  a  better  cause,"  said 
his  father  warmly. 

"  That's  what  I  said  to  Turner.  We  got  ashore,  sir,  all 
safe.  I  landed  with  this  bag,  and  with  no  dry  rag  on  me.  I 
told  an  officer  we  found  there,  that  I  had  government  de> 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  389 

spatches.  He  mounted  me  on  the  best  horse  in  Georgia. 
That  beast  took  me,  to  whom  do  you  think  ?  —  to  Aunt  Eu 
nice's  old  admirer,  Gen.  Bowles ;  and  Gen.  Bowles  has  sent 
me  through  since,  as  if  I  had  been  a  post-rider  of  the  First 
Consul's.  If  Aunt  Eunice  is  not  kind  to  the  general  now, 
she  is  graceless  indeed." 

Lo::sdale  could,  this  time,  take  the  joking  for  what  it  was 
worth.  They  were  now  at  the  house.  The  news  was  in  the 
air,  and  all  the  ladies  flew  to  the  gate  to  welcome  them. 

What  a  Sunday  it  was,  to  be  sure  !  How  much  to  be  told 
publicly,  how  much  to  be  told  privately,  how  much  to  be 
explained !  and  how  many  questions  to  be  asked,  how  many 
mysteries  to  be  solved  !  Fortunately  there  was  very  little  to 
be  done.  Roland  had  come  dashing  up  to  the  house  with 
the  best  stride  of  one  of  Gen.  Bowles's  chargers,  at  a  very  un- 
Sunday  like  pace. 

"  Lucky  for  you,  you  were  not  in  Squam,"  said  his  father. 
"  All  the  tithing-men  in  Essex  County  would  have  been  after 
you." 

"  Better  after  me  than  before  me,  my  dear  father.  I  am 
not  sure  whether  all  Essex  County  would  have  overhauled 
that  bright  bay  whom  Zeno  is  stuffing  with  corn  in  the  stable 
now." 

He  had  flung  the  rein  to  Antoine,  and  rushed  into  the 
house  to  hear  the  amazing  tale  of  the  women,  as  to  his 
father's  arrest  and  Ransom's. 

"I  was  hardly  dressed  for  diplomacy,"  said  he;  "but  I 
thought  the  sooner  I  contributed  my  stock  of  news,  the 
better." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Lonsdale :  "  you  were  none  too  soon. 
We  had  all  played  up  our  last  pawns,  and  the  governor  was 
implacable." 

"Casa  Calvo  will  be  angry  enough,"  said  Mr.  Perry, 
"  when  he  knows  how  like  an  ass  Salcedo  has  behaved.  But 
his  visit  here  just  now  seems  to  be  simply  one  of  ceremony." 

Before  dinner  was  announced,  Will  Harrod  succeeded  in 


390  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

luring  Mr.  Perry  away  into  the  room  which  was  called  his 
office,  and  laying  before  him,  with  a  young  man's  eagerness, 
such  claim  as  he  had  for  Inez's  hand.  A  blundering  busi 
ness  he  made  of  it,  but  her  father  helped  him. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  he,  "  this  is  hardly  matter  for  argu 
ment.  I  do  not  think  my  girl  would  have  taken  a  fancy  to 
you,  had  you  not  been  a  Christian  gentleman.  More  than 
that,  my  boy :  I  fancy  you  have  found  favor  in  her  eyes 
because  you  are  one  of  Philip  Nolan's  friends.  For  me,  I 
have  always  supposed  that  some  man  would  want  to  take  a 
girl  so  lovely  to  his  heart  —  well,  as  I  took  her  mother ;  and, 
if  you  will  only  love  this  child  as  I  loved  her,  why,  I  can  ask 
nothing  more." 

Harrod's  eyes  were  running  over.  He  could  only  repeat 
the  certainty,  which  he  said  two  years  of  constancy  had  given 
him  a  right  to  proclaim,  that  Inez  would  be  dearer  to  him 
than  his  life. 

Eunice  was  never  known  before  to  apologize  for  a  dinner  ; 
and  never  in  after-life  did  she  so  apologize. 

"  But,  Roland,  we  were  so  wretched  this  morning !  If  we 
had  only  known  you  were  coming,  why,  we  would  have  killed 
for  you  any  beast  fat  enough  on  the  place." 

"  And  why  did  you  not  know,  dear  auntie  ?  Why  had  you 
not  signal-officers  in  the  Creek  country  to  telegraph  my  com 
ing  ?  Is  the  general  so  tardy  in  his  attentions  ?  Why,  I 
had  but  to  ask,  and  the  finest  horses  his  lieges  ever  stole 
were  at  my  command." 

Much  fun  there  was,  because  people  were  supposing,  all 
through  the  dinner,  that  those  had  met  who  had  never  met, 
and  that  everybody  understood  every  thing. 

"  One  question,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  you  will  permit  me  to  ask," 
said  Harrod:  "I  have  puzzled  myself  over  if  not  a  little. 
To  what  good  fortune  do  I  owe  it  that  you  followed  me  into 
the  governor's  den  on  Thursday  ?  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
had  seen  you  in  the  street,  and  had  thought  you  were  some 
intendant  or  other  who  meant  to  arrest  me.  I  had  been 
dodging  all  sort  of  catchpolls  for  three  days  of  disguise." 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  391 

"  You  were  not  far  from  right,"  said  Lonsdale  quizzically. 

Everybody  laughed,  and  looked  inquiry. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  said  the  blunt  Kentuckian,  taking 
the  laugh  good-naturedly.  "For  really  that  was  a  great 
stroke  of  luck ;  but  for  you,  I  believe  we  should  all  three  be 
in  thr.  Gulf,  or  near  it,  at  this  hour." 

Lonsdale  laughed  again ;  and  then,  in  a  mock  whisper 
across  the  table,  he  said,  — 

"  I  met  a  man  in  the  street  with  my  best  frock-coat  and 
waistcoat  on,  and  I  followed  him  to  see  where  he  was  going. 
He  went  to  the  governor's  house,  and  I  went  too." 

One  scream  of  laughter  welcomed  the  announcement,  and 
Harrod  and  Inez  laughed  loudest  of  any. 

"  Woe  is  me  !  "  she  cried.  "  Woe  is  me  !  I  am  the  sinner, 
as  I  always  am."  And  she  laughed  herself  into  a  paroxysm 
again.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Lonsdale,  if  you  could  have  seen  him  that 
morning !  I  turned  him  into  Roland's  room,  and  bade  him 
fix  himself  up ;  and  he  has  opened  the  large  wardrobe,  and 
helped  himself  to  the  clothes  Roland  bade  you  leave  there." 

And  the  girl  screamed  with  delight  at  the  transformation. 

"  And  very  nice  clothes  they  are,"  said  Harrod,  joining  in 
the  fun.  "  And,  when  Mr.  Lonsdale  visits  me  in  Kentucky,  I 
will  replace  them  with  the  handsomest  hunting-suit  in  the 
valley. 

"  How  was  I  to  know  ?  There  were  some  thread-paper 
things  there,  which  I  see  now  would  fit  our  diplomatic  friend 
here ;  but,  for  a  broad-shouldered  hunter  like  me,  give  me 
Mr.  Lonsdale's  coat  and  waistcoat.  Indeed,  Mr.  Roland," 
he  said,  "  I  shall  patronize  the  English  tailors.  Your  French 
snips  do  not  give  cloth  enough." 

"  We  can  make  common  cause,*  said  Lonsdale.  "  The 
coat  and  waistcoat  fit  you  so  well  that  I  will  double  my  orders 
when  I  send  to  London ;  and,  as  you  say,  you  can  bid  the 
Frankfort  snips  duplicate  yours  when  you  send  there.  We 
will  play  the  two  Dromios." 

The    ittle  speech  was  wholly  unconscious.      So  far  had 


392  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS  ; 

Lonsdale  looked  into  the  future  in  these  two  or  three  days,  so 
happy  to  him,  though  so  anxious  to  all,  that  he  quite  forgot 
that  the  others  had  not  accompanied  him  in  those  fore-looks, 
not  Eunice  herself,  from  whom  he  thought  he  had  no  secret. 

Quick  as  light,  and  pitiless  as  herself,  Inez  caught  the 
inference,  and  proclaimed  it.  She  clapped  her  hands,  while 
Eunice  first,  and  Lonsdale  in  sympathy,  turned  crimson. 

"  Bravo,  bravissimo  !  "  cried  the  light-hearted  girl.  "  The 
first  American  citizen  adopted  in  the  new  State  of  Louisiana 
is  his  Royal  Highness  the  Duke  of  Clarence.  On  the  Aca 
dian  coast  he  will  establish  his  vineyard  for  the  growth  of 
grapes  and  the  manufacture  of  malmsey.  From  a  throne  on 
the  levee,  he  will  rule  Great  Britain,  Ireland,  and  France, 
when  his  royal  father  at  length  throws  off  the  uneasy  crown. 
Mistress  Inez  Perry  will  be  appointed  first  lady  of  the  robes. 
But  where,  oh !  where,  my  dear  Aunt  Eunice,  where  shall  we 
find  him  a  duchess?  How  would  Mile.  Selina  de  Valois 
do?" 

"  She  will  not  do  at  all,"  cried  Lonsdale ;  his  light  heart, 
and  the  sense  of  so  many  victories,  conquering  all  reticence. 
"  The  duchess  is  found  ;  the  throne  is  in  building ;  the  coro 
net  is  ready  in  the  wardrobe  upstairs,  if  the  Prince  of  Ken 
tucky,  Cavalier  of  the  Red  River,  and  Marshal  of  the  Big 
Raft,  have  not  needed  it  for  purposes  of  his  diplomacy ;  all 
that  the  Duchess  needs  is  her  brother's  goodrwill,  and  "  — 

"  And  what  ?  "  cried  Inez,  laughing  still. 

"  The  presence  of  her  niece  as  bridesmaid,  when  she  gives 
her  hand  to  « The  Man  I  Hate/  " 

And  the  taciturn  and  undemonstrative  Mr.  Lonsdale,  to 
Ma-ry's  unspeakable  delight,  waved  his  fruit-knife  as  if  he 
would  scalp  Inez,  and  bear  off  her  luxuriant  tresses  as  a 
trophy. 

The  frankness  of  this  bit  of  by-play  was  more  like  the 
style  of  Sir  Charles  Grandison's  days  than  Eunice  really 
liked ;  and  Mr.  Perry,  to  relieve  her,  said,  — 

"  Nobody  has  told  me  how  you  all  knew  where  I  was,  or 
where  Ransom  was." 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS."  393 

Inez  nodded  to  Ma-ry,  and  made  a  sign  with  her  hand. 

"  May  I  ? "  asked  Ma-ry  of  her  grandmother,  who  did  not 
at  all  understand,  and  gave  assent  from  the  mere  joyous 
habit  of  the  day,  by  accident. 

So  Ma-ry  sprung  from  her  seat,  ran  across  the  room, 
skipped  upon  a  side-table,  and  there  repeated  the  signals 
which  had  told  where  Mr.  Perry  was  shut  up,  and  where  they 
should  find  Ransom. 

Ransom,  meanwhile,  had  honored  the  occasion  as  he  hon 
ored  few  ceremonies  in  life.  He  appeared  in  a  handsome 
black  coat  and  breeches,  with  a  white  necktie.  Some  foot 
man  whom  he  had  seen  in  Paris,  in  some  livery  of  mourning, 
may  have  suggested  the  costume.  Eunice  might  h:jve  given 
a  state  ball  to  a  travelling  emperor,  and  Ransom  would  not 
have  assumed  this  dress  except  to  please  himself.  When  he 
did  assume  it,  all  parties  knew  that  he  was  entirely  satisfied 
with  the  position.  He  filled  Roland's  glass  with  some  of  the 
favorite  claret. 

"  Here's  ye  father's  own  claret,  Mr.  Roland  ;  found  the  bin 
this  morning." 

Then  Roland  knew  that  all  was  sunny. 

"  As  the  governor  did  not  honor  us,  we  need  not  order  up 
the  sherry.  Indeed,  I  am  not  sure  that  Ransom  could  have 
found  it,"  said  Mr.  Perry,  looking  good-naturedly  at  the  dear 
old  fellow. 

Perhaps  Ma-ry's  welcome  to  Roland  had  been  the  prettiest 
of  all.  Although  Mrs.  Willson  had  felt  at  ease  with  Lons- 
dale  and  Eunice,  Roland  seemed  to  her  the  oldest  friend  of 
all.  It  was  he  who  had  wrought  out  the  whole  inquiry ;  it 
was  he  who  had  traced  her  from  village  to  village,  from  State 
to  Territory,  and  through  him  that  Eunice  had  found  her,  and 
that  she  had  found  her  darling.  And  now  that  she  saw  the 
sun-browned  young  fellow  the  hero  of  the  day  ;  now  that  he 
was  constantly  coming  back  to  dear  Ma-ry's  side,  to  ask  her 
this  and  to  tell  her  that,  and  to  praise  her  for  the  central  ser 
vice  which  she  had  rendered  to  them  all,  —  the  old  lady  felt 


394  PHILIP  NOLAN'S  FRIENDS; 

<nore  at  ease  with  him  than  with  Mr.  Perry,  of  whom  sh? 
was  afraid  ;  with  Mr.  Lonsdale,  whom  she  never  half  under 
stood  ;  nay,  even  more  than  with  Mr.  Harrod,  the  Ken- 
tuckian. 

And  Ma-ry !  She  had  gained  every  thing  in  this  year,  the 
young  man  thought,  and  she  had  lost  nothing.  She  was  a 
woman  now.  Yes !  but  she  was  a  lovely  girl  as  well.  She 
could  give  him  both  her  hands  ;  she  could  look  up  as  frankly 
as  ever  in  his  face  ;  she  could  talk  to  him  of  the  thousand  new 
experiences  of  the  year ;  and  yet,  in  all  the  simplicity  of  her 
bearing,  there  was  never  one  word  or  gesture  but  the  finest 
lady  at  a  ball  at  Malmaison  might  have  been  glad  to  use. 
And  Ma-ry  was  not  afraid  to  tell  him  how  well  he  looked, 
and  how  glad  she  was  that  he  had  come.  A  long,  jolly, 
home-like  dinner :  they  loitered  at  the  table,  almost  till  twi 
light  came.  Then  Eunice  said,  — 

"  Will  it  not  be  pleasanter  on  the  gallery  ?  I  will  order 
coffee  there." 

But  Roland  retained  them. 

"  Let  me  tell  you  all,"  he  said,  "  what  I  was  telling  Mr. 
Harrod.  At  Fort  Washington  whom  should  I  meet  but  a 
fine  little  fellow,  Inez,  a  good  mate  for  you  some  day,  who 
fascinated  me  at  the  very  first.  He  had  just  come  over  from 
Frankfort,  and  had  on  his  nice  new  uniform,  his  bright  shoul 
der-knots,  and  his  new  sword.  He  was  a  little  bit  homesick 
withal.  Well,  I  remembered  how  homesick  such  a  boy  feels. 
I  asked  them  to  introduce  me ;  and  they  introduced  to  me 
Ensign  Philip  Nolan." 

Everybody  started.     "  Philip  Nolan !  " 

"Yes,  he  is  the  cousin  of  our  dear  Phil.  Did  not  I  WHiri 
to  hug  him  ?  I  did  tell  him  more  of  our  Philip  than  he  knew= 
I  told  him  of  poor  Fanny  Lintot,  and  the  little  baby  cousin 
there." 

"One  day  we  will  tell  him,"  said  Silas  Perry  solemnly, 
"  how  much  the  country  owes  to  his  cousin's  cruel  martyr 
dom.  If  our  brave  friend  Phil  Nolan  had  not  gone  to 


OR,   "SHOW  YOUR  PASSPORTS,"  395 

Texas,  these  rascals  would  never  have  got  their  terror  of  the 
Valley  men.  It  was  he  who  taught  them  how  near  was  Ken 
tucky  to  Potosi.  The  moment  they  learned  that,  they  lost 
their  heads. 

"  From  Phil  Nolan  came  Salcedo's  madness. 

"  From  their  frightened  despatches  home,  came  the  easy 
gift  of  all  this  country  to  France. 

"  From  Salcedo's  madness  comes  the  uprising  of  the  West 
ern  hunters,  and  the  first  real  recognition  of  the  West  by  the 
Congress  of  America. 

"Good  fellow  !  in  all  his  wildness,  Philip  Nolan  never  was 
afraid. 

"  He  has  done  more  for  his  country  than  he  meant. 

"  In  all  his  rashness,  he  has  served  her  so  that  she  can 
never  pay  her  debt  to  him. 

"Listen  to  me,  Inez  :  I  shall  not  live  to  see  this,  but  you 
and  your  children  will. 

"  What  Casa  Calvo  calls  Nolan's  mad  act  has  given  Louisi 
ana  to  your  country :  it  will  give  her  Texas. 

"  When  the  tug  comes,  you  will  find  that  every  Spaniard 
dreads  the  prowess  of  Philip  Nolan's  race,  and  that  every 
Kentuckian  remembers  the  treachery  of  Philip  Nolan's  mur 
der. 

"  Poor  fellow !  how  often  I  have  heard  him  say  that  he 
did  not  know  what  country  he  served,  or  what  army  gave  him 
his  commission. 

"This  cousin,  his  namesake,  is  more  fortunate.  Ransom, 
'111  the  glasses.  We  will  drink  this  young  ensign's  health. 

"  To  Ensign  PHILIP  NOLAN,  ladies  and  gentlemen.  May 
the  young  man  never  know  what  it  is  to  be 

"A  MAN  WITHOUT  A  COUNTRY  I" 


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1772     Philip  Nolan's 
P53       friends 


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1772 


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